THE    PHANTOMS 


FOOT-BRIDGE 


• 


CHARLES • EGBERT -CRADDQCK 


The 

Phantoms  of  the  Foot-Bridge 

And  Other  Stories 


CHARLES  EGBERT  CRADDOCK   - 

AUTHOR   OF 

"IN  THE  'STRANGER  PEOPLE'S*   COUNTRY"  ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW    YORK 
HARPER    &    BROTHERS    PUBLISHERS 

18.95 


Copyright,  1895,  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS 


All  rights  reserved. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

THE  PHANTOMS  OF  THE  FOOT-BRIDGE     ...      I 

HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT" 61 

'WAY  DOWN  IN  LONESOME  COVE 131 

THE  MOONSHINERS  AT  HOHO-HEEEE  FALLS.     .  183 
THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  ROCKS 289 


M12012 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


" '  WARN'T    YOU-UNS    APOLOGIZIN'    TER    ME 

FUR  NOT  BEIN'  A  NEPHEW  ?'" Frontispiece 

THE   PHANTOM    OF   THE   FOOT-BRIDGE      .       .       .    Facing  p.    12 

OLD  JOEL  QUIMBEY 66 

"  ' WHY'N'T  YE  GIN  DAD  THEM  MESSAGES?'"  "  102 

"SHE  FLUNG  HER  APRON  OVER  HER  HEAD"  "  114 

"HE  STOLE  NOISELESSLY  IN  THE  SOFT  SNOW  "  "  124 

OLD  QUIMBEY  AND  HIS  GRANDSON  ....  "  128 

"YET  THIS  WAS  CHRISTMAS  EVE".     ...  176 
"  HE  HAD  HAD  AN  ACTIVE  DAY,  INDUCING  A 

KEEN  THIRST" "  214 

"'LOOK  OUT!    SOMEBODY'S  THAR!'".     .     .  "  284 

"SHE  SMILED  UPON  THE  BABY" "  3OO 

THE  BLACKSMITH'S  SHOP "  312 

"THE  TABLES  OF  THE  LAW" "  322 

"'WHAT  WORD  DID  HE  SEND  TER  —  ME?'  "  "  330 


THE  PHANTOMS   OF  THE   FOOT-BRIDGE 


THE   PHANTOMS  OF   THE   FOOT-BRIDGE 

ACROSS  the  narrow  gorge  the  little  foot-bridge 
stretched — a  brace  of  logs,  the  upper  surface  hewn, 
and  a  slight  hand-rail  formed  of  a  cedar  pole.  A 
flimsy  structure,  one  might  think,  looking  down  at 
the  dark  and  rocky  depths  beneath,  through  which 
flowed  the  mountain  stream,  swift  and  strong,  but 
it  was  doubtless  substantial  enough  for  all  ordinary 
usage,  and  certainly  sufficient  for  the  impondera 
ble  and  elusive  travellers  who  by  common  report 
frequented  it. 

"  We  ain't  likely  ter  meet  nobody.  Few  folks 
kem  this  way  nowadays,  'thout  it  air  jes'  ter  ford 
the  creek  down  along  hyar  a  piece,  sence  harnts  an' 
sech  onlikely  critters  hev  been  viewed  a-crossin' 
the  foot-bredge.  An7  it  hev  got  the  name  o'  bein7 
toler'ble  onlucky,  too,"  said  Roxby. 

His  interlocutor  drew  back  slightly.  He  had  his 
own  reasons  to  recoil  from  the  subject  of  death. 
For  him  it  was  invested  with  a  more  immediate 
terror  than  is  usual  to  many  of  the  living,  with 
that  flattering  persuasion  of  immortality  in  every 
strong  pulsation  repudiating  all  possibility  of  ces 
sation.  Then,  lifting  his  gloomy,  long-lashed  eyes 
to  the  bridge  far  up  the  stream,  he  asked,  "  Whose 
'harnts'?" 


4  THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE 

His  voice  had  a  low,  repressed  cadence,  as  of  one 
who  speaks  seldom,  grave,  even  melancholy,  and 
little  indicative  of  the  averse  interest  that  had  kin 
dled  in  his  sombre  eyes.  In  comparison  the  drawl 
of  the  mountaineer,  who  had  found  him  heavy  com 
pany  by  the  way,  seemed  imbued  with  an  abnormal 
vivacity,  and  keyed  a  tone  or  two  higher  than  was 
its  wont. 

"Thar  ain't  a  few,"  he  replied,  with  a  sudden 
glow  of  the  pride  of  the  cicerone.  "  Thar's  a  grave 
yard  t'other  side  o'  the  gorge,  an'  not  more  than 
a  haffen-mile  off,  an'  a  cornsider'ble  passel  o'  folks 
hev  been  buried  thar  off  an'  on,  an'  the  foot-bredge 
ain't  in  nowise  ill-convenient  ter  them." 

Thus  demonstrating  the  spectral  resources  of  the 
locality,  he  rode  his  horse  well  into  the  stream  as 
he  spoke,  and  dropped  the  reins  that  the  animal's 
impatient  lips  might  reach  the  water.  He  sat  fac 
ing  the  foot-bridge,  flecked  with  the  alternate  shift 
ing  of  the  sunshine  and  the  shadows  of  the  tremulous 
firs  that  grew  on  either  side  of  the  high  banks  on 
the  ever-ascending  slope,  thus 'arching  both  above 
and  below  the  haunted  bridge.  His  companion  had 
joined  him  in  the  centre  of  the  stream ;  but  while 
the  horses  drank,  the  stranger's  eyes  were  persis 
tently  bent  on  the  concentric  circles  of  the  water 
that  the  movement  of  the  animals  had  set  astir 
in  the  current,  as  if  he  feared  that  too  close  or 
curious  a  gaze  might  discern  some  pilgrim,  whom 
he  cared  not  to  see,  traversing  that  shadowy  quiv 
ering  foot-bridge.  He  was  mounted  on  a  strong, 
handsome  chestnut,  as  marked  a  contrast  to  his 
guide's  lank  and  trace-galled  sorrel  as  were  the  two 


THE    PHANTOMS    OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE  5 

riders.  A  slender  gloved  hand  had  fallen  with  the 
reins  to  the  pommel  of  the  saddle.  His  soft  felt 
hat,  like  a  sombrero,  shadowed  his  clear-cut  face. 
He  was  carefully  shaven,  save  for  a  long  drooping 
dark  mustache  and  imperial.  His  suit  of  dark 
cloth  was  much  concealed  by  a  black  cloak,  one 
end  of  which  thrown  back  across  his  shoulder 
showed  a  bright  blue  lining,  the  color  giving  a  sud 
den  heightening  touch  to  his  attire,  as  if  he  were 
"  in  costume."  It  was  a  fleeting  fashion  of  the 
day,  but  it  added  a  certain  picturesqueness  to  a 
horseman,  and  seemed  far  enough  from  the  times 
that  produced  the  square-tailed  frock-coat  which 
the  mountaineer  wore,  constructed  of  brown  jeans, 
the  skirts  of  which  stood  stiffly  out  on  each  side  of 
the  saddle,  and  gave  him,  with  his  broad-brimmed 
hat,  a  certain  Quakerish  aspect. 

"  I  dun'no'  why  folks  be  so  'feared  of  'em,"  Rox- 
by  remarked,  speculatively.  "The  dead  ain't  so 
oncommon,  nohow.  Them  ez  hev  been  in  the  war, 
like  you  an'  me  done,  oughter  be  in  an'  'bout  used 
ter  corpses — though  I  never  seen  none  o'  'em  afoot 
agin.  Lookin'  at  a  smit  field  o'  battle,  arter  the 
rage  is  jes'  passed,  oughter  gin  a  body  a  realizin' 
sense  how  easy  the  sperit  kin  flee,  an'  what  pore 
vessels  fur  holdin'  the  spark  o'  life  human  clay  be." 

Simeon  Roxby  had  a  keen,  not  unkindly  face, 
and  he  had  that  look  of  extreme  intelligence  which 
is  entirely  distinct  from  intellectuality,  and  which 
one  sometimes  sees  in  a  minor  degree  in  a  very 
clever  dog  or  a  fine  horse.  One  might  rely  on  him 
to  understand  instinctively  everything  one  might 
say  to  him,  even  in  its  subtler  aesthetic  values,  al- 


6  THE    PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE 

though  he  had  consciously  learned  little.  He  was 
of  the  endowed  natures  to  whom  much  is  given, 
rather  than  of  those  who  are  set  to  acquire.  He 
had  many  lines  in  his  face — even  his  simple  life 
had  gone  hard  with  him,  its  sorrows  unassuaged  by 
its  simplicity.  His  hair  was  grizzled,  and  hung 
long  and  straight  on  his  collar.  He  wore  a  grizzled 
beard  cut  broad  and  short.  His  boots  had  big 
spurs,  although  the  lank  old  sorrel  had  never  felt 
them.  He  sat  his  horse  like  the  cavalryman  he  had 
been  for  four  years  of  hard  riding  and  raiding,  but 
his  face  had  a  certain  gentleness  that  accented  the 
Quaker-like  suggestion  of  his  garb,  a  look  of  com 
muning  with  the  higher  things. 

"  I  never  blamed  'em,'*  he  went  on,  evidently  re 
verting  to  the  spectres  of  the  bridge — "  I  never 
blamed  'em  for  comin'  back  wunst  in  a  while.  It 
'pears  ter  me  'twould  take  me  a  long  time  ter  git 
familiar  with  heaven,  an'  sociable  with  them  ez  hev 
gone  before.  An1,  my  Lord,  jes'  think  what  the 
good  green  yearth  is !  Leastwise  the  mountings. 
I  ain't  settin'  store  on  the  valley  lands  I  seen 
whenst  I  went  ter  the  wars.  I  kin  remember  yit 
what  them  streets  in  the  valley  towns  smelt  like." 

He  lifted  his  head,  drawing  a  long  breath  to  in 
hale  the  exquisite  fragrance  of  the  fir,  the  freshness 
of  the  pellucid  water,  the  aroma  of  the  autumn 
wind,  blowing  through  the  sere  leaves  still  clinging 
red  and  yellow  to  the  boughs  of  the  forest. 

"  Naw,  I  ain't  blamin'  'em,  though  I  don't  hanker 
ter  view  'em,"  he  resumed.  "  One  of  'em  I  wouldn't 
be  afeard  of,  though.  I  feel  mighty  sorry  fur  her. 
The  old  folks  used  ter  tell  about  her.  A  young 


THE   PHANTOMS  OF   THE   FOOT-BRIDGE  7 

'oman  she  war,  a-crossin'  this  bredge  with  her  child 
in  her  arms.  She  war  young,  an'  mus'  have  been 
keerless,  I  reckon  ;  though  ez  'twar  her  fust  baby, 
she  moughtn't  hev  been  practised  in  holdin'  it  an' 
sech,  an'  somehows  it  slipped  through  her  arms  an' 
fell  inter  the  ruver,  an'  war  killed  in  a  minit,  dashin' 
agin  the  rocks.  She  jes'  stood  fur  a  second  a- 
screamin'  like  a  wild  painter,  an'  jumped  off'n  the 
bredge  arter  it.  She  got  it  agin  ;  for  when  they 
dragged  her  body  out'n  the  ruver  she  hed  it  in  her 
arms  too  tight  fur  even  death  ter  onloose.  An' 
thar  they  air  together  in  the  buryin'-ground." 

He  gave  a  nod  toward  the  slope  of  the  mountain 
that  intercepted  the  melancholy  view  of  the  grave 
yard. 

"  Got  it  yit !"  he  continued  ;  "  bekase  "  (he  low 
ered  his  voice)  "  on  windy  nights,  whenst  the  moon 
is  on  the  wane,  she  is  viewed  kerryin'  the  baby 
along  the  bredge  —  kerryin'  it  clear  over,  safe  an' 
sound,  like  she  thought  she  oughter  clone,  I  reckon, 
in  that  one  minute,  whilst  she  stood  an'  screamed 
an'  surveyed  what  she  hed  done.  That  child  would 
hev  been  nigh  ter  my  age  ef  he  hed  lived." 

Only  the  sunbeams  wavered  athwart  the  bridge 
now  as  the  firs  swayed  above,  giving  glimpses  of 
the  sky,  and  their  fibrous  shadows  flickered  back 
and  forth.  The  wild  mountain  stream  flashed  white 
between  the  brown  bowlders,  and  plunged  down  the 
gorge  in  a  succession  of  cascades,  each  seeming 
more  transparently  green  and  amber  and  brown 
than  the  other.  The  chestnut  horse  gazed  meditat 
ively  at  these  limpid  out-gushings,  having  drunk  his 
fill;  then  thought  better  of  his  moderation,  and  once 


8  THE  PHANTOMS  OF  THE   FOOT-BRIDGE 

more  thrust  his  head  down  to  the  water.  The  hand 
of  his  rider,  which  had  made  a  motion  to  gather  up 
the  reins,  dropped  leniently  on  his  neck,  as  Simeon 
Roxby  spoke  again : 

"  Several — several  others  hev  been  viewed,  actin' 
accordin'  ter  thar  motions  in  life.  No.w  thar  war  a 
peddler — some  say  he  slipped  one  icy  evenin',  'bout 
dusk  in  winter  —  some  say  evil  ones  waylaid  him 
fur  his  gear  an'  his  goods  in  his  pack,  but  the  set- 
tlemint  mostly  believes  he  war  alone  whenst  he  fell. 
His  pack  'pears  ter  be  full  still,  they  say  —  but  ye 
air  'bleeged  ter  know  he  hev  hed  ter  set  that  pack 
down  fur  good  'fore  this  time.  We  kin  take  nuthin' 
out'n  this  world,  no  matter  what  kind  o'  a  line  o' 
goods  we  kerry  in  life.  Heaven's  no  place  fur 
tradin',  I  understan',  an'  I  do  wonder  sometimes 
how  in  the  worP  them  merchants  an'  sech  in  the 
valley  towns  air  goin'  ter  entertain  tharse'fs  in  the 
happy  land  o'  Canaan.  It's  goin'  ter  be  sorter  bleak 
fur  them,  sure's  ye  air  born." 

With  a  look  of  freshened  recollection,  he  sud 
denly  drew  a  plug  of  tobacco  from  his  pocket,  and 
he  talked  on  even  as  he  gnawed  a  piece  from  it. 

"  Durin'  the  war  a  cavalry-man  got  shot  out  hyar 
whilst  runnin'  'crost  that  thar  foot-bredge.  Thar 
hed  been  a  scrimmage  an'  his  horse  war  kilt,  an' 
he  tuk  ter  the  bresh  on  foot,  hopin'  ter  hide  in  the 
laurel.  But  ez  he  war  crossin'  the  foot-bredge  some 
o'  the  pursuin'  party  war  fordin'  the  ruver  over 
thar,  an'  thinkin'  he'd  make  out  ter  escape  they 
fired  on  him,  jes'  ez  the  feller  tried  ter  surrender. 
He  turned  this  way  an'  flung  up  both  arms — but 
thar's  mighty  leetle  truce  in  a  pistol-ball.  That 


THE  PHANTOMS   OF   THE   FOOT-BRIDGE  9 

minute  it  tuk  him  right  through  the  brain.  Seems 
toler'ble  long  range  fur  a  pistol,  don't  it  ?  He  kin 
be  viewed  now  most  enny  moonlight  night  out  hyar 
on  the  foot-bredge,  throwin'  up  both  hands  in  sign 
of  surrender." 

The  wild-geese  were  a-wing  on  the  way  southward. 
Looking  up  to  that  narrow  section  of  the  blue  sky 
which  the  incision  of  the  gorge  into  the  very  depths 
of  the  woods  made  visible,  he  could  see  the  tiny 
files  deploying  along  the  azure  or  the  flecking  cir 
rus,  and  hear  the  vague  clangor  of  their  leader's  cry. 
He  lifted  his  head  to  mechanically  follow  their 
flight.  Then,  as  his  eyes  came  back  to  earth,  they 
rested  again  on  the  old  bridge. 

"Strange  enough,"  he  said,  suddenly,  "the  sker- 
riest  tale  I  hev  ever  hearn  'bout  that  thar  old  bredge 
is  one  that  my  niece  set  a-goin'.  She  seen  the  harnt 
herself,  an'  it  shakes  me  wuss  'n  the  idee  o'  all  the 
rest" 

His  companion's  gloomy  gaze  was  lifted  for  a 
moment  with  an  expression  of  inquiry  from  the 
slowly  widening  circles  of  the  water  about  the 
horse's  head  as  he  drank.  But  Roxby's  eyes,  with 
a  certain  gleam  of  excitement,  a  superstitious  di 
lation,  still  dwelt  upon  the  bridge  at  the  end  of 
the  upward  vista.  He  went  on  merely  from  the 
impetus  of  the  subject.  "Yes,  sir  —  she  seen  it  a- 
pacin'  of  its  sorrowful  way  acrost  that  bredge,  same 
ez  the  t'others  of  the  percession  o'  harnts.  'Twar 
my  niece,  Mill'cent  —  brother's  darter  —  by  name, 
MhTcent  Roxby.  Waal,  MilPcent  an'  a  lot  o' 
young  fools  o1  her  age — little  over  fryin'  size — they 
'tended  camp-meetm'  down  hyar  on  Tomahawk 


10  THE  PHANTOMS   OF  THE   FOOT-BRIDGE 

Creek  —  'tain't  so  long  ago  —  along  with  the  old 
folks.  An'  'bout  twenty  went  huddled  up  tergether 
in  a  road-wagin.  An',  lo  !  the  wagin  it  bruk  down 
on  the  way  home,  an'  what  with  proppin'  it  up  on  a 
crotch,  they  made  out  ter  reach  the  cross-roads 
over  yander  at  the  Notch,  an'  thar  the  sober  old 
folks  called  a  halt,  an'  hed  the  wagin  mended  at 
the  blacksmith-shop.  Waal,  it  tuk  some  two  hours, 
fur  Pete  Rodd  ain't  a-goin'  ter  hurry  hisself  —  in 
my  opinion  the  angel  Gabriel  will  hev  ter  blow  his 
bugle  oftener'n  wunst  at  the  last  day  'fore  Pete 
Rodcl  makes  up  his  mind  ter  rise  from  the  dead 
an'  answer  the  roll-call  —  an'  this  hyar  young  lot 
sorter  found  it  tiresome  waitin'  on  thar  elders' 
solemn  company.  The  old  folks,  whilst  waitin', 
set  outside  on  the  porches  of  the  houses  at  the 
settlemint,  an'  repeated  some  o'  the  sermons  they 
hed  hearn  at  camp,  an'  more'n  one  raised  a  hyme 
chune.  An'  the  young  fry — they  hed  hed  a  steady 
diet  o'  sermons  an'  hyme  chimes  fur  lower  days— 
they  tuk  ter  stragglin'  off  down  the  road,  two  an' 
two,  like  the  same  sorter  idjits  the  world  over, 
leavin'  word  with  the  old  folks  that  the  wagin 
would  overtake  'em  an'  pick  'em  up  on  the  road 
when  it  passed.  Waal,  they  walked  several  mile, 
an'  time  they  got  ter  the  crest  o'  the  hill  over 
yander  the  moon  hed  riz,  an'  they  could  look  down 
an'  see  the  mist  in  the  valley.  The  moon  war 
bright  in  the  buryin'-groun'  when  they  passed  it, 
an'  the  head-boards  stood  up  white  an'  stiff,  an'  a 
light  frost  hed  fell  on  the  mounds,  an'  they  showed 
plain,  an'  shone  sorter  lonesome  an'  cold.  The 
young  folks  begun  ter  look  behind  em'  fur  the 


THE  PHANTOMS   OF  THE   FOOT-BRIDGE  II 

wagin.  Some  said — I  b'lieve  'twar  Em'ry  Keenan 
— they  could  read  the  names  on  the  boards  plain, 
'twar  so  light,  the  moon  bein'  nigh  the  full :  but 
Em'ry  never  read  nuthin'  at  night  by  the  moon  in 
his  life ;  he  ain't  enny  too  capable  o'  wrastlin'  with 
the  alphabet  with  a  strong  daytime  on  his  book  ter 
light  him  ter  knowledge.  An'  the  shadows  war 
black  an'  still,  an'  all  the  yearth  looked  ez  ef 
nuthin'  lived  nor  ever  would  agin,  an'  they  hearn  a 
wolf  howl.  Waal,  that  disaccommodated  the  gals 
mightily,  an'  they  hed  a  heap  more  interes^  in  that 
old  wagin,  all  smellin'  rank  with  wagin-grease  an' 
tar,  than  they  did  in  thar  lovyers ;  an'  they  hed 
ruther  hev  hearn  that  old  botch  of  a  wheel  that  Pete 
Rodd  hed  set  onto  it  comin'  a-creakin'  an'  a-com- 
plainin'  along  the  road  than  the  sweetest  words 
them  boys  war  able  ter  make  up  or  remember.  So 
they  stood  thar  in  the  road  —  a-stare-gazin'  them 
head-boards,  like  they  expected  every  grave  ter 
open  an'  the  reveilly  ter  sound  —  a-waitin'  ter  be 
overtook  by  the  wagin,  a-listenin',  but  hearin'  nuth 
in'  in  the  silence  o'  the  frost  —  not  a  dead  leaf  a- 
twirlin',  nor  a  frozen  blade  o'  grass  astir.  An'  then 
two  or  three  o'  the  gals  'lowed  they  hed  ruther 
walk  back  ter  meet  the  wagin,  an'  whenst  the  boys 
'lowed  ter  go  on — nuthin'  war  likely  ter  ketch  'em 
— one  of  'em  bust  out  a-cryin'.  Waal,  thar  war  the 
eend  o'  that  much !  So  the  gay  party  set  out  on 
the  back  track,  a-keepin'  step  ter  sobs  an'  sniffles, 
an'  that's  how  kem  they  seen  no  harnt.  But  Mill'- 
cent  an'  three  or  four  o'  the  t'others  'lowed  they'd 
go  on.  They  warn't  two  mile  from  home,  an'  full 
five  from  the  cross-roads.  So  Em'ry  Keenan  —  he 


12  THE   PHANTOMS  OF  THE   FOOT-BRIDGE 

hev  been  waitin'  on  her  sence  the  year  one — so  he 
put  his  skeer  in  his  pocket  an'  kem  along  with  her, 
a-shakin'  in  his  shoes,  I'll  be  bound  !  So  down  the 
hill  in  the  frosty  moonlight  them  few  kem  —  purty 
nigh  beat  out,  I  reckon,  Mill'cent  war,  what  with 
the  sermonizin'  an'  the  hyme-singin'  an'  hevin'  ter 
look  continual  at  the  sheep's-eyes  o'  Em'ry  Keenan 
— he  wears  my  patience  ter  the  bone!  So  she  con 
cluded  ter  take  the  short-cut.  An'  Em'ry  he 
agreed.  So  they  tuk  the  lead,  the  rest  a  following 
an'  kem  down  thar  through  all  that  black  growth" — 
he  lifted  his  arm  and  pointed  at  the  great  slope, 
dense  with  fir  and  pine  and  the  heavy  underbrush — 
"  keepin'  the  bridle-path — easy  enough  even  at  night, 
fur  the  bresh  is  so  thick  they  couldn't  lose  thar  way. 
But  the  moonlight  war  mightily  slivered  up,  fallin' 
through  the  needles  of  the  pines  an'  the  skeins  of 
dead  vines,  an'  looked  bleached  and  onnatural,  an' 
holped  the  dark  mighty  leetle.  An'  they  seen  the 
water  a-shinin'  an'  a-plungin'  down  the  gorge,  an' 
the  glistenin'  of  the  frost  on  the  floor  o'  the  bredge. 
Thar  war  a  few  icicles  on  the  hand-rail,  an'  the 
branches  o'  the  firs  hung  ez  still  ez  death ;  only 
that  cold,  racin',  shoutin',  jouncin'  water  moved. 
Jes  ez  they  got  toler'ble  nigh  the  foot-bredge  a 
sudden  cloud  kem  over  the  face  o'  the  sky.  Thar 
warn't  no  wind  on  the  yearth,  but  up  above  the 
air  war  a-stirrin'.  An'  Em'ry  he  'lowed  Mill'cent 
shouldn't  cross  the  foot-bredge  whilst  the  light 
warn't  clar  — I  wonder  the  critter  hed  that  much 
sense  !  An'  she  jes'  drapped  down  on  that  rock 
thar  ter  rest" — he  pointed  up  the  slope  to  a  great 
fragment  that  had  broken  off  from  the  ledges  and 


THE  PHANTOM   OF   THE   FOOT-BRIDGE 


THE  PHANTOMS  OF  THE   FOOT-BRIDGE  13 

lay  near  the  bank :  the  bulk  of  the  mass  was  over 
grown  with  moss  and  lichen,  but  the  jagged  edges 
of  the  recent  fracture  gleamed  white  and  crystalline 
among  the  brown  and  olive-green  shadows  about 
it.  A  tree  was  close  beside  it.  "Agin  that  thar 
pine  trunk  Em'ry  he  stood  an'  leaned.  The  rest 
war  behind,  a-comin'  down  the  hill.  An'  all  of  a 
suddenty  a  light  fell  on  the  furder  eend  o'  the  foot- 
bredge — a  waverin'  light,  mighty  white  an'  misty  in 
the  darksomeness.  Mill'cent  'lowed  ez  fust  she 
thunk  it  war  the  moon.  An'  lookin'  up,  she  seen 
the  cloud;  it  held  the  moon  close  kivered.  An' 
lookin'  down,  she  seen  the  light  war  movin'— 
movin'  from  the  furder  eend  o'  the  bredge,  straight 
acrost  it.  Sometimes  a  hand  war  held  afore  it,  ez 
ef  ter  shield  it  from  the  draught,  an'  then  MilFcent 
'seen  twar  a  candle,  an'  the  white  in  the  mistiness 
war  a  'oman  wearin'  white  an'  carryin'  it.  Lookin' 
ter  right  an'  then  ter  lef  the  'oman  kem,  with  now 
her  right  hand  shieldin'  the  candle  she  held,  an' 
now  layin'  it  on  the  hand-rail.  The  candle  shone 
on  the  water,  fur  it  didn't  flare,  an'  when  the  'oman 
held  her  hand  before  it  the  light  made  a  bright 
spot  on  the  foot-bredge  an'  in  the  dark  air  about 
her,  an'  on  the  fir  branches  over  her  head.  An'  a 
thin  mist  seemed  to  hang  about  her  white  frock, 
but  not  over  her  face,  fur  when  she  reached  the 
middle  o'  the  foot-bredge  she  laid  her  hand  agin 
on  the  rail,  an'  in  the  clear  light  o'  the  candle 
MiU'cent  seen  the  harnt's  face.  An'  thar  she  be 
held  her  own  face  ;  her  own  face  she  looked  upon 
ez  she  waited  thar  under  the  tree  watchin'  the  foot- 
bredge  ;  her  own  face  pale  an'  troubled  ;  her  own 


14  THE   PHANTOMS  OF  THE   FOOT-BRIDGE 

self  dressed  in  white,  crossin'  the  foot-bredge,  an1 
lightin'  her  steps  with  a  corpse's  candle."  He 
drew  up  the  reins  abruptly.  He  seemed  in  sudden 
haste  to  go. 

His  companion  looked  with  deepening  interest  at 
the  bridge,  although  he  followed  his  guide's  surging 
pathway  to  the  opposite  bank.  As  the  two  dripping 
horses  struggled  up  the  steep  incline  he  asked,  "  Did 
the  man  with  her  see  the  manifestation  also  ?" 

"  He  'lows  he  did,"  responded  Roxby,  equivo 
cally.  "  But  when  MilPcent  fust  got  so  she  could 
tell  it,  'peared  ter  me  ez  Em'ry  Keenan  fund  it  ez 
much  news  ez  the  rest  o'  we-uns.  Mill'cent  jes' 
drapped  stone-dead,  accordin'  ter  all  accounts,  an' 
he  an'  the  t'other  young  folks  flung  water  in  her 
face  till  she  kem  out'n  her  faint ;  an1  jes'  then  they 
hearn  the  wagin  a-rattlin'  along  the  road,  an'  they 
stopped  it  an'  fetched  her  home  in  it.  She  never 
told  the  tale  till  she  war  home,  an'  it  skeered  me 
an'  my  mother  powerful,  fur  Mill'cent  is  all  the  kin 
we  hev  got.  Mill'cent  is  gran'daddy  an'  gran?mam- 
my,  sons  an'  daughters,  uncles  an'  aunts,  cousins, 
nieces,  an'  nephews,  all  in  one.  The  only  thing  I 
ain't  pervided  with  is  a  nephew-in-law,  an'  I  don't 
need  him.  Leastwise  I  ain't  lookin'  fur  Em'ry 
Keenan  jes'  at  present." 

The  pace  was  brisker  when  the  two  horses,  bend 
ing  their  strength  sturdily  to  the  task,  had  pressed 
up  the  massive  slope  from  the  deep  cleft  of  the 
gorge.  As  the  road  curved  about  the  outer  verge 
of  the  mountain,  the  valley  far  beneath  came  into 
view,  with  intersecting  valleys  and  transverse 
ranges,  dense  with  the  growths  of  primeval  wilder- 


THE   PHANTOMS   OF  THE   FOOT-BRIDGE  15 

nesses,  and  rugged  with  the  tilted  strata  of  great 
upheavals,  and  with  chasms  cut  in  the  solid  rock 
by  centuries  of  erosion,  traces  of  some  remote  cata- 
clysmal  period,  registering  thus  its  throes  and  tur 
moils.  The  blue  sky,  seen  beyond  a  gaunt  profile 
of  one  of  the  farther  summits  that  defined  its 
craggy  serrated  edge  against  the  ultimate  distances 
of  the  western  heavens,  seemed  of  a  singularly 
suave  tint,  incongruous  with  the  savagery  of  the 
scene,  which  clouds  and  portents  of  storm  might 
better  have  befitted.  The  little  graveyard,  which 
John  Dundas  discerned  with  recognizing  eyes,  al 
beit  they  had  never  before  rested  upon  it,  was  re 
vealed  suddenly,  lying  high  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  gorge.  No  frost  glimmered  now  on  the  lowly 
mounds ;  the  flickering  autumnal  sunshine  loitered 
unafraid  among  them,  according  to  its  languid 
wont  for  many  a  year.  Shadows  of  the  gray  nn- 
painted  head -boards  lay  on  the  withered  grass, 
brown  and  crisp,  with  never  a  cicada  left  to  break 
the  deathlike  silence.  A  tuft  of  red  leaves,  vagrant 
in  the  wind,  had  been  caught  on  one  of  the  primi 
tive  monuments,  and  swayed  there  with  a  decora 
tive  effect.  The  enclosure  seemed,  to  unaccus 
tomed  eyes,  of  small  compass,  and  few  the  denizens 
who  had  found  shelter  here  and  a  resting-place,  but 
it  numbered  all  the  dead  of  the  country-side  for 
many  a  mile  and  many  a  year,  and  somehow  the 
loneliness  was  assuaged  to  a  degree  by  the  reflec 
tion  that  they  had  known  each  other  in  life,  unlike 
the  great  herds  of  cities,  and  that  it  was  a  common 
fate  which  the  neighbors,  huddled  together,  en 
countered  in  company. 


l6  THE  PHANTOMS   OF  THE   FOOT-BRIDGE 

It  had  no  discordant  effect  in  the  pervasive  sense 
of  gloom,  of  mighty  antagonistic  forces  with  which 
the  scene  was  replete ;  it  fostered  a  realization  of 
the  pitiable  minuteness  and  helplessness  of  human 
nature  in  the  midst  of  the  vastness  of  inanimate 
nature  and  the  evidences  of  infinite  lengths  of  for 
gotten  time,  of  the  long  reaches  of  unimagined  his 
tory,  eventful,  fateful,  which  the  landscape  at  once 
suggested  and  revealed  and  concealed. 

Like  the  sudden  flippant  clatter  of  castanets  in 
the  pause  of  some  solemn  funeral  music  was  the 
impression  given  by  the  first  glimpse  along  the 
winding  woodland  way  of  a  great  flimsy  white 
building,  with  its  many  pillars,  its  piazzas,  its  "ob 
servatory,"  its  band -stand,  its  garish  intimations 
of  the  giddy,  gay  world  of  a  summer  hotel.  But, 
alack !  it,  too,  had  its  surfeit  of  woe. 

"  The  guerrillas  an'  bushwhackers  tuk  it  out  on 
the  old  hotel,  sure !"  observed  Sim  Roxby,  by  way 
of  introduction.  "Thar  warn't  much  fightin'  hyar- 
abouts,  an'  few  sure -enough  soldiers  ever  kem 
along.  But  wunst  in  a  while  a  band  o'  guerrillas 
went  through  like  a  suddint  wind -storm,  an'  I  tell 
ye  they  made  things  whurl  while  they  war  about  it. 
They  made  a  sorter  barracks  o'  the  old  place. 
Looks  some  like  lightning  hed  struck  it." 

He  had  reined  up  his  horse  about  one  hundred 
yards  in  front  of  the  edifice,  where  the  weed-grown 
gravelled  drive — carefully  tended  ten  years  agone 
— had  diverged  from  the  straight  avenue  of  pop 
lars,  sweeping  in  a  circle  around  to  the  broad  flight 
of  steps. 

"  Though,"  he  qualified  abruptly,  as  if  a  sudden 


THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE   FOOT-BRIDGE  IJ 

thought  had  struck  him,  "  ef  ye  air  countin'  on 
buyin'  it,  a  leetle  money  spent  ter  keerful  purpose 
will  go  a  long  way  toward  makin'  it  ez  good  ez 
new." 

His  companion  did  not  reply,  and  for  the  first 
time  Roxby  cast  upon  him  a  covert  glance  charged 
with  the  curiosity  which  would  have  been  earlier 
and  more  easily  aroused  in  another  man  by  the 
manner  of  the  stranger.  A  letter— infrequent  mis 
sive  in  his  experience — had  come  from  an  ancient 
companion-in-arms,  his  former  colonel,  requesting 
him  in  behalf  of  a  friend  of  the  old  commander  to 
repair  to  the  railway  station,  thirty  miles  distant,  to 
meet  and  guide  this  prospective  purchaser  of  the 
old  hotel  to  the  site  of  the  property.  And  now  as 
Roxby  looked  at  him  the  suspicion  which  his  kind 
heart  had  not  been  quick  to  entertain  was  seized 
upon  by  his  alert  brain. 

"The  cunnel's  been  fooled  somehows,"  he  said 
to  himself. 

For  the  look  with  which  John  Dundas  contem 
plated  the  place  was  not  the  gaze  of  him  concerned 
with  possible  investment — with  the  problems  of  re 
pair,  the  details  of  the  glazier  and  the  painter  and 
the  plasterer.  The  mind  was  evidently  neither 
braced  for  resistance  nor  resigned  to  despair,  as 
behooves  one  smitten  by  the  foreknowledge  of  the 
certainty  of  the  excess  of  the  expenditures  over  the 
estimates.  Only  with  pensive,  listless  melancholy, 
void  of  any  intention,  his  eyes  traversed  the  long 
rows  of  open  doors,  riven  by  rude  hands  from  their 
locks,  swinging  helplessly  to  and  fro  in  the  wind, 
and  giving  to  the  deserted  and  desolate  old  place  a 


l8  THE   PHANTOMS   OF  THE   FOOT-BRIDGE 

spurious  air  of  motion  and  life.  Many  of  the  shut 
ters  had  been  wrenched  from  their  hinges,  and 
lay  rotting  on  the  floors.  The  ball-room  windows 
caught  on  their  shattered  glass  the  reflection  of  the 
clouds,  and  it  seemed  as  if  here  and  there  a  wan 
face  looked  through  at  the  riders^wending  along  the 
weed-grown  path.  Where  so  many  faces  had  been 
what  wonder  that  a  similitude  should  linger  in  the 
loneliness  !  The  pallid  face  seemed  to  draw  back  as 
they  glanced  up  while  slowly  pacing  around  the 
drive.  A  rabbit  sitting  motionless  on  the  front  piaz 
za  did  not  draw  back,  although  observing  them  with 
sedate  eyes  as  he  poised  himself  upright  on  his 
haunches,  with  his  listless  fore-paws  suspended  in 
the  air,  and  it  occurred  to  Dundas  that  he  was 
probably  unfamiliar  with  the  presence  of  human 
beings,  and  had  never  heard  the  crack  of  a  gun.  A 
great  swirl  of  swallows  came  soaring  out  of  the  big 
kitchen  chimneys  and  circled  in  the  sky,  darting 
down  again  and  again  upward.  Through  an  open 
passage  was  a  glimpse  of  a  quadrangle,  with  its 
weed-grown  spaces  and  litter  of  yellow  leaves.  A 
tawny  streak,  a  red  fox,  sped  through  it  as  Dundas 
looked.  A  half-moon,  all  a-tilt,  hung  above  it.  He 
saw  the  glimmer  through  the  bare  boughs  of  the 
leafless  locust-trees  here  and  there  still  standing, 
although  outside  on  the  lawn  many  a  stump  bore 
token  how  ruthlessly  the  bushwhackers  had  fur 
nished  their  fires. 

"That  thar  moon's  a-hangin'  fur  rain,"  said  the 
mountaineer,  commenting  upon  the  aspect  of  the  lu 
minary,  which  he,  too,  had  noticed  as  they  passed. 
"  I  ain't  s'prised  none  ef  we  hev  fallin'  weather 


THE   PHANTOMS   OF  THE  FOOT-BRIDGE  19 

agin  'fore  day,  an'  the  man  —  by  name  Morgan 
Holden  —  that  hev  charge  o'  the  hotel  property 
can't  git  back  fur  a  week  an'  better." 

A  vague  wonder  to  find  himself  so  suspicious 
flitted  through  his  mind,  with  the  thought  that 
perhaps  the  colonel  might  have  reckoned  on  this 
delay.  "  Surely  the  ruvers  down  yander  at  Knox- 
ville  mus'  be  a-boomin',  with  all  this  wet  weather," 
he  said  to  himself. 

Then  aloud :  "  Morgan  Holden  he  went  ter  Col- 
bury  ter  'tend  ter  some  business  in  court,  an'  the 
ruvers  hev  riz  so  that,  what  with  the  bredges  bein' 
washed  away  an'  the  fords  so  onsartain  an'  tricky, 
he'll  stay  till  the  ruver  falls.  He  don't  know  ye 
war  kemin',  ye  see.  The  mail-rider  hev  quit,  'count 
o'  the  rise  in  the  ruver,  an'  thar's  no  way  ter  git 
word  ter  him.  Still,  ef  ye  air  minded  ter  wait,  I'll 
be  powerful  obligated  fur  yer  comp'ny  down  ter  my 
house  till  the  ruver  falls  an'  Holden  he  gits  back." 

The  stranger  murmured  his  obligations,  but  his 
eyes  dwelt  lingeringly  upon  the  old  hotel,  with  its 
flapping  doors  and  its  shattered  windows.  Through 
the  recurrent  vistas  of  these,  placed  opposite  in  the 
rooms,  came  again  broken  glimpses  of  the  grassy 
space  within  the  quadrangle,  with  its  leafless  locust- 
trees,  first  of  all  to  yield  their  foliage  to  the  autumn 
wind,  where  a  tiny  owl  was  shrilling  stridulously 
under  the  lonely  red  sky  and  the  melancholy  moon. 

"  Hed  ye  'lowed  ter  put  up  at  the  cjd  hotel  ?" 
asked  Roxby,  some  inherent  quickness  supplying 
the  lack  of  a  definite  answer. 

For  the  first  time  the  stranger  turned  upon  him 
a  look  more  expressive  than  the  casual  fragmen- 


20  THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE   FOOT-BRIDGE 

tary  attention  with  which  he  had  half  heeded,  half 
ignored  his  talk  since  their  first  encounter  at  the 
railway  station. 

"  A  simple  fellow,  but  good  as  gold,"  was  the 
phrase  with  which  Simeon  Roxby  had  been  com 
mended  as  guide  and  in  some  sort  guard. 

"  Not  so  simple,  perhaps,"  the  sophisticated 
man  thought  as  their  eyes  met.  Not  so  simple  but 
that  the  truth  must  serve.  "  The  colonel  suggested 
that  it  might  be  best,"  he  replied,  more  alert  to  the 
present  moment  than  his  languid  preoccupation 
had  heretofore  permitted. 

The  answer  was  good  as  far  as  it  went.  A  few 
days  spent  in  the  old  hostelry  certainly  would  serve 
well  to  acquaint  the  prospective  purchaser  with 
its  actual  condition  and  the  measures  and  means 
needed  for  its  repair ;  but  as  Sim  Roxby  stood 
there,  with  the  cry  of  the  owl  shrilling  in  the  des 
ert  air,  the  lonely  red  sky,  the  ominous  tilted 
moon,  the  doors  drearily  flapping  to  and  fro  as  the 
wind  stole  into  the  forlorn  and  empty  place  and 
sped  back  affrighted,  he  marvelled  at  the  refuge 
contemplated. 

"  I  believe  there  is  some  of  the  furniture  here 
yet.  We  could  contrive  to  set  up  a  bed  from  what 
is  left.  The  colonel  could  make  it  all  right  with 
Holden,  and  I  could  stay  a  day  or  two,  as  we  origi 
nally  planned." 

"  Ye-es.  I  don't  mind  Holden :  a  man  ain't 
much  in  charge  of  a  place  ez  ain't  got  a  lock  or  a 
key  ter  bless  itself  with,  an'  takes  the  owel  an'  the 
fox  an'  the  gopher  fur  boarders ;  but,  ennyhow, 
kern  with  me  home  ter  supper.  Mill'cent  will  hev 


THE  PHANTOMS   OF  THE   FOOT-BRIDGE  21 

it  ready  by  now  ennyhows,  an'  ye  need  suthin' 
hearty  an'  hot  ter  stiffen  ye  up  ter  move  inter  sech 
quarters  ez  these."  Dundas  hesitated,  but  the 
mountaineer  had  already  taken  assent  for  granted, 
and  pushed  his  horse  into  a  sharp  trot.  Evidently 
a  refusal  was  not  in  order.  Dundas  pressed  for 
ward,  and  they  rode  together  along  the  winding 
way  past  the  ten-pin  alley,  its  long  low  roof  half 
hidden  in  the  encroaching  undergrowth  springing 
up  apace  beneath  the  great  trees ;  past  the  stables; 
past  a  line  of  summer  cottages,  strangely  staring  of 
aspect  out  of  the  yawning  doors  and  windows,  giv 
ing,  instead  of  an  impression  of  vacancy,  a  sense 
of  covert  watching,  of  secret  occupancy.  If  one's 
glances  were  only  quick  enough,  were  there  not 
faces  pressed  to  those  shattered  panes  —  scarcely 
seen — swiftly  withdrawn  ? 

He  was  in  a  desert ;  he  had  hardly  been  so 
utterly  alone  in  all  his  life ;  yet  he  bore  through 
the  empty  place  a  feeling  of  espionage,  and  ever 
and  anon  he  glanced  keenly  at  the  overgrown 
lawns,  with  their  deepening  drifts  of  autumn  leaves, 
at  the  staring  windows  and  flaring  doors,  which 
emitted  sometimes  sudden  creaking  wails  in  the 
silence,  as  if  he  sought  to  assure  himself  of  the 
vacancy  of  which  his  mind  took  cognizance  and 
yet  all  his  senses  denied. 

Little  of  his  sentiment,  although  sedulously 
cloaked,  was  lost  on  Sim  Roxby  ;  and  he  was 
aware,  too,  in  some  subtle  way,  of  the  relief  his 
guest  experienced  when  they  plunged  into  the 
darkening  forest  and  left  the  forlorn  place  behind 
them.  The  clearing  in  which  it  was  situated  seemed 


22  THE   PHANTOMS   OF  THE    FOOT-BRIDGE 

an  oasis  of  light  in  the  desert  of  night  in  which 
the  rest  of  the  world  lay.  From  the  obscurity  of 
the  forest  Dundas  saw,  through  the  vistas  of  the 
giant  trees,  the  clustering  cottages,  the  great  hotel, 
gables  and  chimneys  and  tower,  stark  and  dis 
tinct  as  in  some  weird  dream-light  in  the  midst  of 
the  encircling  gloom.  The  after-glow  of  sunset 
was  still  aflare  on  the  western  windows ;  the  whole 
empty  place  was  alight  with  a  reminiscence  of  its 
old  aspect — its  old  gay  life.  Who  knows  what 
memories  were  a-stalk  there — what  semblance  of 
former  times  ?  What  might  not  the  darkness 
foster,  the  impunity  of  desertion,  the  associations 
that  inhabited  the  place  with  almost  the  strength 
of  human  occupancy  itself  ?  Who  knows  —  who 
knows? 

He  remembered  the  scene  afterward,  the  im 
pression  he  received.  And  from  this,  he  thought, 
arose  his  regret  for  his  decision  to  take  up  here 
his  abiding-place. 

The  forest  shut  out  the  illumined  landscape, 
and  the  night  seemed  indeed  at  hand ;  the  gigantic 
boles  of  the  trees  loomed  through  the  encompass 
ing  gloom,  that  was  yet  a  semi-transparent  me 
dium,  like  some  dark  but  clear  fluid  through  which 
objects  were  dimly  visible,  albeit  tinged  with  its 
own  sombre  hue.  The  lank,  rawboned  sorrel  had 
set  a  sharp  pace,  to  which  the  chestnut,  after  mo 
mentary  lagging,  as  if  weary  with  the  day's  travel, 
responded  briskly.  He  had  received  in  some  way 
intimations  that  his  companion's  corn -crib  was 
near  at  hand,  and  if  he  had  not  deduced  from 
these  premises  the  probability  of  sharing  his  fare, 


THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE  23 

his  mental  processes  served  him  quite  as  well  as 
reason,  and  brought  him  to  the  same  result.  On 
and  on  they  sped,  neck  and  neck,  through  the 
darkening  woods  ;  fire  flashed  now  and  again  from 
their  iron-shod  hoofs ;  often  a  splash  and  a  shower 
of  drops  told  of  a  swift  dashing  through  the  mud- 
holes  that  recent  rains  had  fostered  in  the  shallows. 
The  dank  odor  of  dripping  boughs  came  on  the 
clear  air.  Once  the  chestnut  shied  from  a  sudden 
strange  shining  point  springing  up  in  the  darkness 
close  at  hand,  which  the  country-bred  horse  dis 
criminated  as  fox-fire,  and  kept  steadily  on,  un 
mindful  of  the  rotting  log  where  it  glowed.  Far  in 
advance,  in  the  dank  depths  of  the  woods,  a  Will- 
o'-the-wisp  danced  and  flickered  and  lured  the 
traveller's  eye.  The  stranger  was  not  sure  of  the 
different  quality  of  another  light,  appearing  down 
a  vista  as  the  road  turned,  until  the  sorrel,  making 
a  tremendous  spurt,  headed  for  it,  uttering  a  joyous 
neigh  at  the  sight. 

The  deep-voiced  barking  of  hounds  rose  melo 
diously  on  the  silence,  and  as  the  horses  burst  out 
of  the  woods  into  a  small  clearing,  Dundas  beheld 
in  the  brighter  light  a  half-dozen  of  the  animals 
nimbly  afoot  in  the  road,  one  springing  over  the 
fence,  another  in  the  act  of  climbing,  his  fore-paws 
on  the  topmost  rail,  his  long  neck  stretched,  and 
his  head  turning  about  in  attitudes  of  observation. 
He  evidently  wished  to  assure  himself  whether  the 
excitement  of  his  friends  was  warranted  by  the 
facts  before  he  troubled  himself  to  vault  over  the 
fence.  Three  or  four  still  lingered  near  the  door  of 
a  log-cabin,  fawning  about  a  girl  who  stood  on  the 


24  THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE   FOOT-BRIDGE 

porch.  Her  pose  was  alert,  expectant ;  a  fire  in  the 
dooryard,  where  the  domestic  manufacture  of  soap 
had  been  in  progress,  cast  a  red  flare  on  the  house, 
its  appurtenances,  the  great  dark  forest  looming 
all  around,  and,  more  than  the  glow  of  the  hearth 
within,  lighted  up  the  central  figure  of  the  scene. 
She  was  tall,  straight,  and  strong ;  a  wealth  of  fair 
hair  was  clustered  in  a  knot  at  the  back  of  her 
head,  and  fleecy  tendrils  fell  over  her  brow ;  on  it 
was  perched  a  soldier's  cap;  and  certainly  more 
gallant  and  fearless  eyes  had  never  looked  out  from 
under  the  straight,  stiff  brim.  Her  chin,  firm, 
round,  dimpled,  was  uplifted  as  she  raised  her 
head,  descrying  the  horsemen's  approach.  She 
wore  a  full  dark-red  skirt,  a  dark  brown  waist,  and 
around  her  neck  was  twisted  a  gray  cotton  kerchief, 
faded  to  a  pale  ashen  hue,  the  neutrality  of  which 
somehow  aided  the  delicate  brilliancy  of  the  blended 
roseate  and  pearly  tints  of  her  face.  Was  this  the 
seer  of  ghosts  —  Dundas  marvelled — this  the  Mil- 
licent  whose  pallid  and  troubled  phantom  already 
paced  the  foot-bridge  ? 

He  did  not  realize  that  he  had  drawn  up  his 
horse  suddenly  at  the  sight  of  her,  nor  did  he  no 
tice  that  his  host  had  dismounted,  until  Roxby  was 
at  the  chestnut's  head,  ready  to  lead  the  animal  to 
supper  in  the  barn.  His  evident  surprise,  his  pre 
occupation,  were  not  lost  upon  Roxby,  however. 
His  hand  hesitated  on  the  girth  of  the  chestnut's 
saddle  when  he  stood  between  the  two  horses  in 
the  barn.  He  had  half  intended  to  disregard  the 
stranger's  declination  of  his  invitation,  and  stable 
the  creature.  Then  he  shook  his  head  slowly ;  the 


THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE   FOOT-BRIDGE  25 

mystery  that  hung  about  the  new-comer  was  not 
reassuring.  "  A  heap  o'  wuthless  cattle  'mongst 
them  valley  men,"  he  said;  for  the  war  had  been 
in  some  sort  an  education  to  his  simplicity.  "  Let 
him  stay  whar  the  cunnel  expected  him  ter  stay. 
I  ain't  wantin'  no  stranger  a-hangin'  round  about 
MiU'cent,  nohow.  Em'ry  Keenan  ain't  a  pattern 
o'  perfection,  but  I  be  toler'ble  well  acquainted 
with  the  cut  o'  his  foolishness,  an'  I  know  his 
daddy  an'  mammy,  an'  both  sets  o'  gran'daddies 
an'  gran'mammies,  an'  I  could  tell  ye  exac'ly 
which  one  the  critter  got  his  nose  an'  his  mouth 
from,  an'  them  lean  sheep's-eyes  o'  his'n,  an'  nigh 
every  tone  o'  his  voice.  Em'ry  never  thunk  afore 
ez  I  set  store  on  bein'  acquainted  with  him.  He 
'lowed  I  knowed  him  too  well." 

He  laughed  as  he  glanced  through  the  open  door 
into  the  darkening  landscape.  Horizontal  gray 
clouds  were  slipping  fast  across  the  pearly  spaces 
of  the  sky.  The  yellow  stubble  gleamed  among 
the  brown  earth  of  the  farther  field,  still  striped 
with  its  furrows.  The  black  forest  encircled  the 
little  cleared  space,  and  a  wind  was  astir  among 
the  tree-tops.  A  white  star  gleamed  through  the 
broken  clapboards  of  the  roof,  the  fire  still  flared 
under  the  soap -kettle  in  the  dooryard,  and  the 
silence  was  suddenly  smitten  by  a  high  cracked 
old  voice,  which  told  him  that  his  mother  had  per 
ceived  the  dismounted  stranger  at  the  gate,  and 
was  graciously  welcoming  him. 

She  had  come  to  the  door,  where  the  girl  still 
stood,  but  half  withdrawn  in  the  shadow.  Dundas 
silently  bowed  as  he  passed  her,  following  his  aged 


26  THE   PHANTOMS   OF  THE   FOOT-BRIDGE 

hostess  into  the  low  room,  all  bedight  with  the 
firelight  of  a  huge  chimney-place,  and  comfortable 
with  the  realization  of  a  journey's  end.  The  wil 
derness  might  stretch  its  weary  miles  around,  the 
weird  wind  wander  in  the  solitudes,  the  star  look 
coldly  on  unmoved  by  aught  it  beheld,  the  moon 
show  sad  portents,  but  at  the  door  they  all  failed, 
for  here  waited  rest  and  peace  and  human  com 
panionship  and  the  sense  of  home. 

"  Take  a  cheer,  stranger,  an'  make  yerself  at 
home.  Powerful  glad  ter  see  ye — war  'feard  night 
would  overtake  ye.  Ye  fund  the  water  toler'ble 
high  in  all  the  creeks  an'  sech,  I  reckon,  an'  fords 
shifty  an'  onsartain.  Yes,  sir.  Fall  rains  kem  on 
earlier'n  common,  an'  more'n  we  need.  Wisht  we 
could  divide  it  with  that  thar  drought  we  had  in 
the  summer.  Craps  war  cut  toler'ble  short,  sir — 
toler'ble  short." 

Mrs.  Roxby's  spectacles  beamed  upon  him  with 
an  expression  of  the  utmost  benignity  as  the  fire 
light  played  on  the  lenses,  but  her  eyes  peering 
over  them  seemed  endowed  in  some  sort  with  in 
dependence  of  outlook.  It  was  as  if  from  behind 
some  bland  mask  a  critical  observation  was  poised 
for  unbiased  judgment.  He  felt  in  some  degree 
under  surveillance.  But  when  a  light  step  heralded 
an  approach  he  looked  up,  regardless  of  the  be 
trayal  of  interest,  and  bent  a  steady  gaze  upon 
Millicent  as  she  paused  in  the  doorway. 

And  as  she  stood  there,  distinct  in  the  firelight 
and  outlined  against  the  black  background  of  the 
night,  she  seemed  some  modern  half-military  ideal 
of  Diana,  with  her  two  gaunt  hounds  beside  her, 


THE   PHANTOMS   OF  THE   FOOT-BRIDGE  27 

the  rest  of  the  pack  vaguely  glimpsed  at  her  heels 
outside,  the  perfect  outline  and  chiselling  of  her 
features,  her  fine,  strong,  supple  figure,  the  look 
of  steady  courage  in  her  eyes,  and  the  soldier's 
cap  on  her  fair  hair.  Her  face  so  impressed  itself 
upon  his  mind  that  he  seemed  to  have  seen  her 
often.  It  was  some  resemblance  to  a  picture  of  a 
vivandiere,  doubtless,  in  a  foreign  gallery — he  could 
not  say  when  or  where ;  a  remnant  of  a  tourist's 
overcrowded  impressions  ;  a  half-realized  reminis 
cence,  he  thought,  with  an  uneasy  sense  of  recog 
nition. 

"  Hello,  Mill'cent !  home  agin  !"  Roxby  cried,  in 
cheery  greeting  as  he  entered  at  the  back  door  op 
posite.  "  What  sorter  topknot  is  that  ye  got  on  ?" 
he  demanded,  looking  jocosely  at  her  head-gear. 

The  girl  put  up  her  hand  with  an  expression  of 
horror.  A  deep  red  flush  dyed  her  cheek  as  she 
touched  the  cap.  "  I  forgot  'twar  thar,"  she  mur 
mured,  contritely.  Then,  with  a  sudden  rush  of 
anger  as  she  tore  it  off :  "  'Twar  granny's  fault. 
She  axed  me  ter  put  it  on,  so  ez  ter  see  which  one 
I  looked  most  like." 

"  Stranger,"  quavered  the  old  woman,  with  a 
painful  break  in  her  voice,  "  I  los'  fower  sons  in 
the  war,  an'  Mill'cent  hev  got  the  fambly  favor." 

"  Ye  moiight  hev  let  me  know  ez  I  war  a-perlitin' 
round  in  this  hyar  men's  gear  yit,"  the  girl  mut 
tered,  as  she  hung  the  cap  on  a  prong  of  the  deer 
antlers  on  which  rested  the  rifle  of  the  master  of 
the  house. 

Roxby's  face  had  clouded  at  the  mention  of  the 
four  sons  who  had  gone  out  from  the  mountains 


28  THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE   FOOT-BRIDGE 

never  to  return,  leaving  to  their  mother's  aching 
heart  only  the  vague  comfort  of  an  elusive  resem 
blance  in  a  girl's  face ;  but  as  he  noted  Millicent's 
pettish  manner,  and  divined  her  mortification  be 
cause  of  her  unseemly  head-gear  in  the  stranger's 
presence,  he  addressed  her  again  in  that  jocose  tone 
without  which  he  seldom  spoke  to  her. 

"  Warn't  you-uns  apologizin'  ter  me  t'other  day 
fur  not  bein'  a  nephew  'stiddier  a  niece  ?  Looked 
sorter  like  a  nephew  ter-night." 

She  shook  her  head,  covered  now  only  with  its 
own  charming  tresses  waving  in  thick  undulations 
to  the  coil  at  the  nape  of  her  neck  —  a  trifle  di 
shevelled  from  the  rude  haste  with  which  the  cap 
had  been  torn  off. 

Roxby  had  seated  himself,  and  with  his  elbows 
on  his  knees  he  looked  up  at  her  with  a  teasing 
jocularity,  such  as  one  might  assume  toward  a 
child. 

"  Ye  war''  he  declared,  with  affected  solemnity 
— "  ye  war  'pologizin'  fur  not  bein'  a  nephew,  an' 
'lowed  ef  ye  war  a  nephew  we  could  go  a-huntin' 
tergether,  an'  ye  could  holp  me  in  all  my  quar'ls 
an'  fights.  I  been  aging  some  lately,  an'  ef  I  war 
ter  go  ter  the  settlemint  an'  git  inter  a  figlit  I 
mought  not  be  able  ter  hold  my  own.  Think  what 
'twould  be  ter  a  pore  old  man  ter  hev  a  dutiful 
nephew  step  up  an'  "  —  he  doubled  his  fists  and 
squared  off  —  "jes'  let  daylight  through  some  o' 
them  cusses.  An'  didn't  ye  say  " — he  dropped  his 
belligerent  attitude  and  pointed  an  insistent  finger 
at  her,  as  if  to  fix  the  matter  in  her  recollection — 
"  ef  ye  war  a  nephew  'stiddier  a  niece  ye  could  fire 


THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE   FOOT-BRIDGE  29 

a  gun  'thout  shettin'  yer  eyes  ?  An'  I  told  ye  then 
ez  that  would  mend  yer  aim  mightily.  I  told  ye 
that  I'd  be  powerful  mortified  ef  I  hed  a  nephew 
ez  hed  ter  shet  his  eyes  ter  keep  the  noise  out'n  his 
ears  whenst  he  fired  a  rifle.  The  tale  would  go 
mighty  hard  with  me  at  the  settlemint." 

The  girl's  eyes  glowed  upon  him  with  the  fixity 
and  the  lustre  of  those  of  a  child  who  is  entertained 
and  absorbed  by  an  elder's  jovial  wiles.  A  flash  of 
laughter  broke  over  her  face,  and  the  low,  gurgling, 
half-dreamy  sound  was  pleasant  to  hear.  She  was 
evidently  no  more  than  a  child  to  these  bereft  old 
people,  and  by  them  cherished  as  naught  else  on 
earth. 

•'  An'  didn't  /  tell  you-uns"  he  went  on,  affecting 
to  warm  to  the  discussion,  and  in  reality  oblivious 
of  the  presence  of  the  guest — "  didn't  I  tell  ye  ez 
how  ef  ye  war  a  nephew  'stiddier  a  niece  ye 
wouldn't  hev  sech  cattle  ez  Em'ry  Keenan  a-dan- 
glin'  round  underfoot,  like  a  puppy  ye  can't  gin 
away,  an'  that  won't  git  lost,  an'  ye  ain't  got  the 
heart  ter  kill  ?" 

The  girl's  lip  suddenly  curled  with  scorn.  "  Yer 
nephew  would  be  obligated  ter  make  a  ch'ice  fur 
marryin'  'mongst  these  hyar  mounting  gals — Par- 
mely  Lepstone,  or  Belindy  M'ria  Matthews,  or  one 
o'  the  Windrow  gals.  Waal,  sir,  I'd  ruther  be  yer 
niece — even  ef  Em'ry  Keenan  air  like  a  puppy  un 
derfoot,  that  ye  can't  gin  away,  an'  won't  git  lost, 
an'  ye  ain't  got  the  heart  ter  kill."  She  laughed 
again,  showing  her  white  teeth.  She  evidently  rel 
ished  the  description  of  the  persistent  adherence  of 
poor  Emory  Keenan.  "  But  which  one  o'  these 


30  THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE   FOOT-BRIDGE 

hyar  gals  would  ye  recommend  ter  yer  nephew  ter 
marry — ef  ye  hed  a  nephew  ?" 

She  looked  at  him  with  flashing  eyes,  conscious 
of  having  propounded  a  poser. 

He  hesitated  for  a  moment.  Then — "  I'm  sur 
rounded,"  he  said,  with  a  laugh.  "  Ez  I  couldn't 
find  a  wife  fur  myself,  I  can't  ondertake  ter  recom 
mend  one  ter  my  nephew.  Mighty  fine  boy  he'd 
hev  been,  an'  saaft-spoken  an'  perlite  ter  aged  men 
— not  sassy  an'  makin'  game  o'  old  uncles  like  a 
niece.  Mighty  fine  boy!" 

"  Ye  air  welcome  ter  him,"  she  said,  with  a  sim 
ulation  of  scorn,  as  she  turned  away  to  the  table. 

Whether  it  were  the  military  cap  she  had  worn, 
or  the  fancied  resemblance  to  the  young  soldiers, 
never  to  grow  old,  who  had  gone  forth  from  this 
humble  abode  to  return  no  more,  there  was  still  to 
the  guest's  mind  the  suggestion  of  the  vivandiere 
about  her  as  she  set  the  table  and  spread  upon  it 
the  simple  fare.  To  and  from  the  fireplace  she  was 
followed  by  two  or  three  of  the  younger  dogs,  their 
callowness  expressed  in  their  lack  of  manners  and 
perfervid  interest  in  the  approaching  meal.  This 
induced  their  brief  journeys  back  and  forth,  albeit 
embarrassed  by  their  physical  conformation,  short 
turns  on  four  legs  not  being  apparently  the  easy 
thing  it  would  seem  from  so  much  youthful  supple 
ness.  The  dignity  of  the  elder  hounds  did  not 
suffer  them  to  move,  but  they  looked  on  from  erect 
postures  about  the  hearth  with  glistening  eyes  and 
slobbering  jaws. 

Ever  and  anon  the  deep  blue  eyes  of  Millicent 
were  lifted  to  the  outer  gloom,  as  if  she  took  note 


THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE  31 

of  its  sinister  aspect.  She  showed  scant  interest  in 
the  stranger,  whose  gaze  seldom  left  her  as  he  sat 
beside  the  fire.  He  was  a  handsome  man,  his 
face  and  figure  illumined  by  the  firelight,  and  it 
might  have  been  that  he  felt  a  certain  pique,  an 
unaccustomed  slight,  in  that  his  presence  was  so 
indifferent  an  element  in  the  estimation  of  any 
young  and  comely  specimen  of  the  feminine  sex. 
Certainly  he  had  rarely  encountered  such  absolute 
preoccupation  as  her  smiling  far  -  away  look  beto 
kened  as  she  went  back  and  forth  with  her  young 
canine  friends  at  her  heels,  or  stood  at  the  table 
deftly  slicing  the  salt-rising  bread,  the  dogs  poised 
skilfully  upon  their  hind-legs  to  better  view  the  ap 
petizing  performance ;  whenever  she  turned  her 
face  toward  them  they  laid  their  heads  languish- 
ingly  askew,  as  if  to  remind  her  that  supper  could 
not  be  more  fitly  bestowed  than  on  them.  One,  to 
steady  himself,  placed  unobserved  his  fore-paw  on 
the  edge  of  the  table,  his  well-padded  toes  leaving 
a  vague  imprint  as  of  fingers  upon  the  coarse  white 
cloth;  but  John  Dundas  was  a  sportsman,  and 
could  the  better  relax  an  exacting  nicety  where 
so  pleasant-featured  and  affable  a  beggar  was  con 
cerned.  He  forgot  the  turmoils  of  his  own  troubles 
as  he  gazed  at  Millicent,  the  dreary  aspect  of  the 
solitudes  without,  the  exile  from  his  accustomed 
sphere  of  culture  and  comfort,  the  poverty  and 
coarseness  of  her  surroundings.  He  was  sorry 
that  he  had  declined  a  longer  lease  of  Roxby's 
hospitality,  and  it  was  in  his  mind  to  reconsider 
when  it  should  be  again  proffered.  Her  attitude, 
her  gesture,  her  face,  her  environment,  all  appealed 


32  THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE   FOOT-BRIDGE 

to  his  sense  of  beauty,  his  interest,  his  curiosity, 
as  little  ever  had  done  heretofore.  Slice  after  slice 
of  the  firm  fragrant  bread  was  deftly  cut  and  laid 
on  the  plate,  as  again  and  again  she  lifted  her  eyes 
with  a  look  that  might  seem  to  expect  to  rest  on 
summer  in  the  full  flush  of  a  June  noontide  with 
out,  rather  than  on  the  wan,  wintry  night  sky  and 
the  plundered,  quaking  woods,  while  the  robber 
wind  sped  on  his  raids  hither  and  thither  so  swiftly 
that  none  might  follow,  so  stealthily  that  none  might 
hinder.  A  sudden  radiance  broke  upon  her  face,  a 
sudden  shadow  fell  on  the  firelit  floor,  and  there 
was  entering  at  the  doorway  a  tall,  lithe  young 
mountaineer,  whose  first  glance,  animated  with  a 
responsive  brightness,  was  for  the  girl,  but  whose 
punctilious  greeting  was  addressed  to  the  old 
woman. 

"Howdy,  Mis'  Roxby  —  howdy?  Air  yer  rheu 
matics  mendin'  enny  ?"  he  demanded,  with  the  con- 
dolent  suavity  of  the  would-be  son-in-law,  or  grand- 
son-in-law,  as  the  case  may  be.  And  he  hung  with 
a  transfixed  interest  upon  her  reply,  prolix  and  dis 
cursive  according  to  the  wont  of  those  who  cultivate 
"  rheumatics,"  as  if  each  separate  twinge  racked 
his  own  sympathetic  and  filial  sensibilities.  Not 
until  the  tale  was  ended  did  he  set  his  gun  against 
the  wall  and  advance  to  the  seat  which  Roxby  had 
indicated  with  the  end  of  the  stick  he  was  whittling. 
He  observed  the  stranger  with  only  slight  interest, 
till  Dundas  drew  up  his  chair  opposite  at  the  table. 
There  the  light  from  the  tallow  dip,  guttering  in 
the  centre,  fell  upon  his  handsome  face  and  eyes, 
his  carefully  tended  beard  and  hair,  his  immaculate 


THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE  33 

cuffs  and  delicate  hand,  the  seal-ring  on  his  taper 
finger. 

"  Like  a  gal,  by  gum  !"  thought  Emory  Keenan. 
"  Rings  on  his  fingers — yit  six  feet  high  !" 

He  looked  at  his  elders,  marvelling  that  they  so 
hospitably  repressed  the  disgust  which  this  effemi 
nate  adornment  must  occasion,  forgetting  that  it 
was  possible  that  they  did  not  even  observe  it.  In 
the  gala-days  of  the  old  hotel,  before  the  war,  they 
had  seen  much  "  finicking  finery  "  in  garb  and  equi 
page  and  habits  affected  by  the  jeunesse  doree  who 
frequented  the  place  in  those  halcyon  times,  and 
were  accustomed  to  such  details.  It  might  be  that 
they  and  Millicent  approved  such  flimsy  daintiness. 
He  began  to  fume  inwardly  with  a  sense  of  infe 
riority  in  her  estimation.  One  of  his  fingers  had 
been  frosted  last  winter,  and  with  the  first  twinge 
of  cold  weather  it  was  beginning  to  look  very  red 
and  sad  and  clumsy,  as  if  it  had  just  remembered 
its  ancient  woe ;  he  glanced  from  it  once  more  at 
the  delicate  ringed  hand  of  the  stranger. 

Dundas  was  looking  up  with  a  slow,  deferential, 
decorous  smile  that  nevertheless  lightened  and 
transfigured  his  expression.  It  seemed  somehow 
communicated  to  Millicent's  face  as  she  looked 
down  at  him  from  beneath  her  white  eyelids  and 
long,  thick,  dark  lashes,  for  she  was  standing  be 
side  him,  handing  him  the  plate  of  bread.  Then, 
still  smiling,  she  passed  noiselessly  on  to  the  others. 

Emory  was  indeed  clumsy,  for  he  had  stretched 
his  hand  downward  to  offer  a  morsel  to  a  friend  of 
his  under  the  table — he  was  on  terms  of  exceeding 
amity  with  the  four-footed  members  of  the  house 


34  THE    PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-HR[DGE 

hold — and  in  his  absorption  not  withdrawing  it  as 
swiftly  as  one  accustomed  to  canine  manners  should 
do,  he  had  his  frosted  finger  well  mumbled  before 
he  could,  as  it  were,  repossess  himself  of  it. 

"  I  wonder  what  they  charge  fur  iron  over  yander 
at  the  settlemint,  Em'ry  ?"  observed  Sim  Roxby 
presently. 

"Dun'no',  sir,"  responded  Emory,  glumly,  his  sul 
len  black  eyes  full  of  smouldering  fire — "  hevin'  no 
call  ter  know,  ez  I  ain't  no  blacksmith." 

"  I  war  jes'  wonderin'  ef  tenpenny  nails  didn't 
cost  toler'ble  high  ez  reg'lar  feed,"  observed  Roxby, 
gravely. 

But  his  mother  laughed  out  with  a  gleeful  cracked 
treble,  always  a  ready  sequence  of  her  son's  rustic 
sallies.  "  He  got  ye  that  time,  EmYy,"  she  cried. 

A  forced  smile  crossed  Emory's  face.  He  tossed 
back  his  tangled  dark  hair  with  a  gasp  that  was 
like  the  snort  of  an  unruly  horse  submitting  to  the 
inevitable,  but  with  restive  projects  in  his  brain. 
"  I  let  the  dog  hyar  ketch  my  finger  whilst  feedin' 
him,"  he  said.  His  plausible  excuse  for  the  ten- 
penny  expression  was  complete ;  but  he  added,  his 
darker  mood  recurring  instantly,  "An',  Mis'  Roxby, 
I  hev  put  a  stop  ter  them  ez  hev  tuk  ter  callin'  me 
Em'ly,  I  hev." 

The  old  woman  looked  up,  her  small  wrinkled 
mouth  round  and  amazed.  "  /  never  called  ye 
Emily,"  she  declared. 

Swift  repentance  seized  him. 

"  Naw,  'm,"  he  said,  with  hurried  propitiation. 
"I 'lowed  ye  did." 

"  I  didn't,"  said  the  old  woman.     "  But  ef  I  war 


THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE  35 

ter  find  it  toothsome  ter  call  ye  *  Emily,'  I  dun'no' 
how  ye  air  goin'  ter  pervent  it.  Ye  can't  go  gun- 
nin'  fur  me,  like  ye  done  fur  the  men  at  the  mill,  fur 
callin'  ye  '  Emily.'  " 

"  Law,  Mis'  Roxby  !"  he  could  only  exclaim,  in 
his  horror  and  contrition  at  this  picture  he  had 
thus  conjured  up.  "  Ye  air  welcome  ter  call  me 
ennything  ye  air  a  mind  ter,"  he  protested. 

And  then  he  gasped  once  more.  The  eyes  of 
the  guest,  contemptuous,  amused,  seeing  through 
him,  were  fixed  upon  him.  And  he  himself  had 
furnished  the  lily-handed  stranger  with  the  informa 
tion  that  he  had  been  stigmatized  "  Em'ly  "  in  the 
banter  of  his  associates,  until  he  had  taken  up  arms, 
as  it  were,  to  repress  this  derision. 

"  It  takes  powerful  little  ter  put  ye  down,  Em'ry," 
said  Roxby,  with  rallying  laughter.  "  Mam  hev  sent 
ye  skedaddlin'  in  no  time  at  all.  I  don't  b'lieve  the 
Lord  made  woman  out'n  the  man's  rib.  He  made 
her  out'n  the  man's  backbone ;  fur  the  man  ain't 
hed  none  ter  speak  of  sence." 

Millicent,  with  a  low  gurgle  of  laughter,  sat  down 
beside  Emory  at  the  table,  and  fixed  her  eyes,  soft 
ly  lighted  with  mirth,  upon  him.  The  others  too 
had  laughed,  the  stranger  with  a  flattering  intona 
tion,  but  young  Keenan  looked  at  her  with  a  dumb 
appealing  humility  that  did  not  altogether  fail  of 
its  effect,  for  she  busied  herself  to  help  his  plate 
with  an  air  of  proprietorship  as  if  he  were  a  child, 
and  returned  it  with  a  smile  very  radiant  and  suffi 
cient  at  close  range.  She  then  addressed  herself 
to  her  own  meal.  The  young  dogs  under  the  ta 
ble  ceased  to  beg,  and  gambolled  and  gnawed  and 


36  THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE 

tugged  at  her  stout  little  shoes,  the  sound  of  their 
callow  mirthful  growls  rising  occasionally  above  the 
talk.  Sometimes  she  rose  again  to  wait  on  the  ta 
ble,  when  they  came  leaping  out  after  her,  jumping 
and  catching  at  her  skirts,  now  and  then  casting 
themselves  on  the  ground  prone  before  her  feet, 
and  rolling  over  and  over  in  the  sheer  joy  of  ex 
istence. 

The  stranger  took  little  part  in  the  talk  at  the 
table.  Never  a  question  was  asked  him  as  to  his 
mission  in  the  mountains,  or  the  length  of  his  stayT 
his  vocation,  or  his  home.  That  extreme  courtesy 
of  the  mountaineers,  exemplified  in  their  singular 
abstinence  from  any  expressions  of  curiosity,  ac 
cepted  such  account  of  himself  as  he  had  volun 
teered,  and  asked  for  no  more.  In  the  face  of  this 
standard  of  manners  any  inquisitiveness  on  his 
part,  such  as  might  have  elicited  points  of  inter 
est  for  his  merely  momentary  entertainment,  was 
tabooed.  Nevertheless,  silent  though  he  was  for 
the  most  part,  the  relish  with  which  he  listened,  his 
half-covert  interest  in  the  girl,  his  quick  observation 
of  the  others,  the  sudden  very  apparent  enlivening  of 
his  mental  atmosphere,  betokened  that  his  quarters 
were  not  displeasing  to  him.  It  seemed  only  a  short 
time  before  the  meal  was  ended  and  the  circle  all, 
save  Millicent,  with  pipes  alight  before  the  fire  again. 
The  dogs,  well  fed,  had  ranged  themselves  on  the 
glowing  hearth,  lying  prone  on  the  hot  stones  ;  one 
old  hound,  however,  who  conserved  the  air  of  listen 
ing  to  the  conversation,  sat  upright  and  nodded 
from  time  to  time,  now  and  again  losing  his  balance 
and  tipping  forward  in  a  truly  human  fashion,  then 


THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE   FOOT-BRIDGE  37 

gazing  round  on  the  circle  with  an  open  luminous 
eye,  as  who  should  say  he  had  not  slept. 

It  was  all  very  cheerful  within,  but  outside  the 
wind  still  blared  mournfully.  Once  more  Dundas 
was  sorry  that  he  had  declined  the  invitation  to  re 
main,  and  it  was  with  a  somewhat  tentative  inten 
tion  that  he  made  a  motion  to  return  to  the  hotel. 
But  his  host  seemed  to  regard  his  resolution  as 
final,  and  rose  with  a  regret,  not  an  insistence.  The 
two  women  stared  in  silent  amazement  at  the  mere 
idea  of  his  camping  out,  as  it  were,  in  the  old  hotel. 
The  ascendency  of  masculine  government  here,  not 
withstanding  Roxby's  assertion  that  Eve  was  made 
of  Adam's  backbone,  was  very  apparent  in  their 
mute  acquiescence  and  the  alacrity  with  which  they 
began  to  collect  various  articles,  according  to  his  di 
rections,  to  make  the  stranger's  stay  more  com 
fortable. 

"  Em'ry  kin  go  along  an'  holp,"  he  said,  heart 
lessly  ;  for  poor  Emory's  joy  in  perceiving  that  the 
guest  was  not  a  fixture,  and  that  his  presence  was 
not  to  be  an  embargo  on  any  word  between  himself 
and  Millicent  during  the  entire  evening,  was  pitia 
bly  manifest.  But  the  situation  was  still  not  without 
its  comforts,  since  Dundas  was  to  go  too.  Hence 
he  was  not  poor  company  when  once  in  the  saddle, 
and  was  civil  to  a  degree  of  which  his  former  dis 
mayed  surliness  had  given  no  promise. 

Night  had  become  a  definite  element.  The  twi 
light  had  fled.  Above  their  heads,  as  they  galloped 
through  the  dank  woods,  the  bare  boughs  of  the 
trees  clashed  together — so  high  above  their  heads 
that  to  the  town  man,  unaccustomed  to  these  great 


38  THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE 

growths,  the  sound  seemed  not  of  the  vicinage,  but 
unfamiliar,  uncanny,  and  more  than  once  he  checked 
his  horse  to  listen.  As  they  approached  the  moun 
tain's  verge  and  overlooked  the  valley  and  beheld 
the  sky,  the  sense  of  the  predominance  of  darkness 
was  redoubled.  The  ranges  gloomed  against  the 
clearer  spaces,  but  a  cloud,  deep  gray  with  curling 
white  edges,  was  coming  up  from  the  west,  with  an 
invisible  convoy  of  vague  films,  beneath  which  the 
stars,  glimmering  white  points,  disappeared  one  by 
one.  The  swift  motion  of  this  aerial  fleet  sailing 
with  the  wind  might  be  inferred  from  the  seeming 
ly  hurried  pace  of  the  moon  making  hard  for  the 
west.  Still  bright  was  the  illumined  segment,  but 
despite  its  glitter  the  shadowy  space  of  the  full 
disk  was  distinctly  visible,  its  dusky  field  spangled 
with  myriads  of  minute,  dully  golden  points.  Down, 
down  it  took  its  way  in  haste — in  disordered  fright, 
it  seemed,  as  if  it  had  no  heart  to  witness  the  storm 
which  the  wind  and  the  clouds  foreboded  — to  fairer 
skies  somewhere  behind  those  western  mountains. 
Soon  even  its  vague  light  would  encroach  no  more 
upon  the  darkness.  The  great  hotel  would  be  in 
visible,  annihilated  as  it  were  in  the  gloom,  and  not 
even  thus  dimly  exist,  glimmering,  alone,  forlorn, 
so  incongruous  to  the  wilderness  that  it  seemed 
even  now  some  mere  figment  of  the  brain,  as  the 
two  horsemen  came  with  a  freshened  burst  of  speed 
along  the  deserted  avenue  and  reined  up  beside  a 
small  gate  at  the  side. 

"  No  use  ter  ride  all  the  way  around,"  observed 
Emory  Keenan.  "  Mought  jes  ez  well  'light  an1 
hitch  hyar." 


THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE  39 

The  moon  gave  him  the  escort  of  a  great  gro 
tesque  shadow  as  he  threw  himself  from  his  horse 
and  passed  the  reins  over  a  decrepit  hitching-post 
near  at  hand.  Then  he  essayed  the  latch  of  the 
small  gate.  He  glanced  up  at  Dundas,  the  moon 
light  in  his  dark  eyes,  with  a  smile  as  it  resisted 
his  strength. 

He  was  a  fairly  good-looking  fellow  when  rid  of 
the  self-consciousness  of  jealousy.  His  eyes,  mouth, 
chin,  and  nose,  acquired  from  reliable  and  recog 
nizable  sources,  were  good  features,  and  statuesque 
in  their  immobility  beneath  the  drooping  curves  of 
his  broad  soft  hat.  He  was  tall,  with  the  slen- 
derness  of  youth,  despite  his  evident  weight  and 
strength.  He  was  long-waisted  and  lithe  and  small 
of  girth,  with  broad  square  shoulders,  whose  play 
of  muscles  as  he  strove  with  the  gate  was  not  alto 
gether  concealed  by  the  butternut  jeans  coat  belted 
in  with  his  pistols  by  a  broad  leathern  belt.  His 
boots  reached  high  on  his  long  legs,  and  jingled 
with  a  pair  of  huge  cavalry  spurs.  His  stalwart 
strength  seemed  as  if  it  must  break  the  obdurate 
gate  rather  than  open  it,  but  finally,  with  a  rasping 
creak,  dismally  loud  in  the  silence,  it  swung  slowly 
back. 

The  young  mountaineer  stood  gazing  for  a  mo 
ment  at  the  red  rust  on  the  hinges.  "  How  long 
sence  this  gate  must  hev  been  opened  afore  ?"  he 
said,  again  looking  up  at  Dundas  with  a  smile. 

Somehow  the  words  struck  a  chill  to  the  stran 
ger's  heart.  The  sense  of  the  loneliness  of  the 
place,  of  isolation,  filled  him  with  a  sort  of  awe. 
The  night-bound  wilderness  itself  was  not  more 


40  THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE 

daunting  than  these  solitary  tiers  of  piazzas,  these 
vacant  series  of  rooms  and  corridors,  all  instinct 
with  vanished  human  presence,  all  alert  with  ech 
oes  of  human  voices.  A  step,  a  laugh,  a  rustle  of 
garments — he  could  have  sworn  he  heard  them  at 
any  open  doorway  as  he  followed  his  guide  along 
the  dim  moonlit  piazza,  with  its  pillars  duplicated 
at  regular  intervals  by  the  shadows  on  the  floor. 
How  their  tread  echoed  down  these  lonely  ways  ! 
From  the  opposite  side  of  the  house  he  heard  Kee- 
nan's  spurs  jangling,  his  soldierly  stride  sounding 
back  as  if  their  entrance  had  roused  barracks. 
He  winced  once  to  see  his  own  shadow  with  its 
stealthier  movement.  It  seemed  painfully  furtive. 
For  the  first  time  during  the  evening  his  jaded  mind, 
that  had  instinctively  sought  the  solace  of  contem 
plating  trifles,  reverted  to  its  own  tormented  proc 
esses.  "  Am  I  not  hiding  ?"  he  said  to  himself,  in 
a  sort  of  sarcastic  pity  of  his  plight. 

The  idea  seemed  never  to  enter  the  mind  of  the 
transparent  Keenan.  He  laughed  out  gayly  as  they 
turned  into  the  weed -grown  quadrangle,  and  the 
red  fox  that  Dundas  had  earlier  observed  slipped 
past  him  with  affrighted  speed  and  dashed  among 
the  shadows  of  the  dense  shrubbery  of  the  old 
lawn  without.  Again  and  again  the  sound  rang 
back  from  wall  to  wall,  first  with  the  jollity  of 
seeming  imitation,  then  with  an  appalled  effect 
sinking  to  silence,  and  suddenly  rising  again  in  a 
grewsome  staccato  that  suggested  some  terrible  un 
earthly  laughter,  and  bore  but  scant  resemblance 
to  the  hearty  mirth  which  had  evoked  it.  Keenan 
paused  and  looked  back  with  friendly  gleaming' 


THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE  41 

eyes.  "  Oughter  been  a  leetle  handier  with  these 
hyar  consarns,"  he  said,  touching  the  pistols  in  his 
belt. 

It  vaguely  occurred  to  Dundas  that  the  young 
man  went  strangely  heavily  armed  for  an  evening 
visit  at  a  neighbor's  house.  But  it  was  a  lawless 
country  and  lawless  times,  and  the  sub-current  of 
suggestion  did  not  definitely  fix  itself  in  his  mind 
until  he  remembered  it  later.  He  was  looking  into 
each  vacant  open  doorway,  seeing  the  still  moon 
light  starkly  white  upon  the  floor ;  the  cobwebbed 
and  broken  window-panes,  through  which  a  section 
of  leafless  trees  beyond  was  visible ;  bits  of  furni 
ture  here  and  there,  broken  by  the  vandalism  of 
the  guerillas.  Now  and  then  a  scurrying  move 
ment  told  of  a  gopher,  hiding  too,  and  on  one 
mantel-piece,  the  black  fireplace  yawning  below, 
sat  a  tiny  tawny-tinted  owl,  whose  motionless  bead- 
like  eyes  met  his  with  a  stare  of  stolid  surprise.  Af 
ter  he  had  passed,  its  sudden  ill-omened  cry  set 
the  silence  to  shuddering. 

Keenan,  leading  the  way,  paused  in  displeasure. 
"  I  wisht  I  hed  viewed  that  critter,"  he  said,  glumly. 
"  I'd  hev  purvented  that  screechin'  ter  call  the  devil, 
sure.  It's  jes  a  certain  sign  o'  death." 

He  was  about  to  turn,  to  wreak  his  vengeance, 
perchance.  But  the  bird,  sufficiently  fortunate  it 
self,  whatever  woe  it  presaged  for  others,  suddenly 
took  its  awkward  flight  through  sheen  and  shadow 
across  the  quadrangle,  and  when  they  heard  its 
cry  again  it  came  from  some  remote  section  of  the 
building,  with  a  doleful  echo  as  a  refrain. 

The  circumstance  was  soon  forgotten  by  Kee- 


42  THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE 

nan.  He  seemed  a  happy,  mercurial,  lucid  nature, 
and  he  began  presently  to  dwell  with  interest  on 
the  availability  of  the  old  music-stand  in  the  centre 
of  the  square  as  a  manger.  "  Hyar,"  he  said,  strik 
ing  the  rotten  old  structure  with  a  heavy  hand,  which 
sent  a  quiver  and  a  thrill  through  all  the  timbers — 
"  hyar's  whar  the  guerillas  always  hitched  thar 
beastises.  Thar  feed  an'  forage  war  piled  up  thar 
on  the  fiddlers'  seats.  Ye  can't  do  no  better'n  ter 
pattern  arter  them,  till  ye  git  ready  ter  hev  fiddlers 
an'  sech  a-sawin'  away  in  hyar  agin." 

And  he  sauntered  away  from  the  little  pavilion, 
followed  by  Dundas,  who  had  not  accepted  his  sug 
gestion  of  a  room  on  the  first  floor  as  being  less 
liable  to  leakage,  but  finally  made  choice  of  an  inner 
apartment  in  the  second  story.  He  looked  hard 
at  Keenan,  when  he  stood  in  the  doorway  survey 
ing  the  selection.  The  room  opened  into  a  cross- 
hall  which  gave  upon  a  broad  piazza  that  was  lat 
ticed  ;  tiny  squares  of  moonlight  were  all  sharply 
drawn  on  the  floor,  and,  seen  through  a  vista  of 
gray  shadow,  seemed  truly  of  a  gilded  lustre. 
From  the  windows  of  this  room  on  a  court -yard 
no  light  could  be  visible  to  any  passer-by  without. 
Another  door  gave  on  an  inner  gallery,  and  through 
its  floor  a  staircase  came  up  from  the  quadrangle 
close  to  the  threshold.  Dundas  wondered  if  these 
features  were  of  possible  significance  in  Keenan's 
estimation.  The  young  mountaineer  turned  sud 
denly,  and  snatching  up  a  handful  of  slats  broken 
from  the  shutters,  remarked  : 

"Let's  see  how  the  chimbly  draws — that's  the 
main  p'int." 


THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE  43 

There  was  no  defect  in  the  chimney's  constitu 
tion.  It  drew  admirably,  and  with  the  white  and 
red  flames  dancing  in  the  fireplace,  two  or  three 
chairs,  more  or  less  disabled,  a  table,  and  an  uphol 
stered  lounge  gathered  at  random  from  the  rooms 
near  at  hand,  the  possibility  of  sojourning  comfort 
ably  for  a  few  days  in  the  deserted  hostelry  seemed 
amply  assured. 

Once  more  Dundas  gazed  fixedly  at  the  face  of 
the  young  mountaineer,  who  still  bent  on  one  knee 
on  the  hearth,  watching  with  smiling  eyes  the  tri 
umphs  of  his  fire-making.  It  seemed  to  him  after 
wards  that  his  judgment  was  strangely  at  fault:  he 
perceived  naught  of  import  in  the  shallow  bright 
ness  of  the  young  man's  eyes,  like  the  polished  sur 
face  of  jet ;  in  the  instability  of  his  jealousy,  his 
anger ;  in  his  nap-hazard,  mercurial  temperament. 
Once  he  might  have  noted  how  flat  were  the  spaces 
beneath  the  eyes,  how  few  were  the  lines  that  de 
fined  the  lid,  the  socket,  the  curve  of  the  cheek 
bone,  the  bridge  of  the  nose,  and  how  expression 
less.  It  was  doubtless  the  warmth  and  glow  of 
the  fire,  the  clinging  desire  of  companionship,  the 
earnest  determination  to  be  content,  pathetic  in 
one  who  had  but  little  reason  for  optimism,  that 
caused  him  to  ignore  the  vacillating  glancing 
moods  that  successively  swayed  Keenan,  strong 
while  they  lasted,  but  with  scanty  augury  because 
of  their  evanescence.  He  was  like  some  newly 
discovered  property  in  physics  of  untried  poten 
tialities,  of  which  nothing  is  ascertained  but  its  un 
certainties. 

And  yet  he  seemed  to  Dundas  a  simple  country 


44  THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE 

fellow,  good-natured  in  the  main,  unsuspicious,  and 
helpful.  So,  giving  a  long  sigh  of  relief  and  fatigue, 
Dundas  sank  down  in  one  of  the  large  arm-chairs 
that  had  once  done  duty  for  the  summer  loungers 
on  the  piazza.. 

In  the  light  of  the  fire  Emory  was  once  more 
looking  at  him.  A  certain  air  of  distinction,  a 
grace  and  ease  of  movement,  an  indescribable 
quality  of  bearing  which  he  could  not  discrimi 
nate,  yet  which  he  instinctively  recognized  as  su 
perior,  offended  him  in  some  sort.  He  noticed 
again  the  ring  on  the  stranger's  hand  as  he  drew 
off  his  glove.  Gloves !  Emory  Keenan  would  as 
soon  have  thought  of  wearing  a  petticoat.  Once 
more  the  fear  that  these  effeminate  graces  found 
favor  in  Millicent's  estimation  smote  upon  his 
heart.  It  made  the  surface  of  his  opaque  eyes 
glisten  as  Dundas  rose  and  took  up  a  pipe  and  to 
bacco  '  pouch  which  he  had  laid  on  the  mantel 
piece,  his  full  height  and  fine  figure  shown  in  the 
changed  posture. 

"  Ez  tall  ez  me,  ef  not  taller,  an',  by  gum  !  a  good 
thirty  pound  heavier,"  Emory  reflected,  with,  a 
growing  dismay  that  he  had  not  those  stalwart 
claims  to  precedence  in  height  and  weight  as  an 
offset  to  the  smoother  fascinations  of  the  stranger's 
polish. 

He  had'  risen  hastily  to  his  feet.  He  would  not 
linger  to  smoke  fraternally  over  the  fire,  and  thus 
cement  friendly  relations. 

"  I  guided  him  hyar,  like  old  Sim  Roxby  axed  me 
ter  do,  an'  that's  all.  I  ain't  keerin'  ef  I  never  lay 
eyes  on  him  again,"  he  said  to  himself. 


THE   PHANTOMS  OF   THE   FOOT-BRIDGE  45 

"  Going  ?"  said  Dundas,  pleasantly,  noticing  the 
motion.  "  You'll  look  in  again,  won't  you  ?" 

"  Wunst  in  a  while,  I  reckon,"  drawled  Keenan, 
a  trifle  thrown  off  his  balance  by  this  courtesy. 

He  paused  at  the  door,  looking  back  over  his 
shoulder  for  a  moment  at  the  illumined  room,  then 
stepped  out  into  the  night,  leaving  the  tenant  of  the 
lonely  old  house  filling  his  pipe  by  the  fire. 

His  tread  rang  along  the  deserted  gallery,  and 
sudden  echoes  came  tramping  down  the  vacant  halls 
as  if  many  a  denizen  of  the  once  populous  place  was 
once  more  astir  within  its  walls.  Long  after  Dun- 
das  had  heard  him  spring  from  the  lower  piazza 
to  the  ground,  and  the  rusty  gate  clang  behind  him, 
vague  footfalls  were  audible  far  away,  and  were  still 
again,  and  once  more  a  pattering  tread  in  some 
gaunt  and  empty  apartment  near  at  hand,  faint  and 
fainter  yet,  till  he  hardly  knew  whether  it  were  the 
reverberations  of  sound  or  fancy  that  held  his  senses 
in  thrall. 

And  when  all  was  still  and  silent  at  last  he  felt 
less  solitary  than  when  these  elusive  tokens  of  hu 
man  presence  were  astir. 

Late,  late  he  sat  over  the  dwindling  embers.  His 
mind,  no  longer  diverted  by  the  events  of  the  day, 
recurred  with  melancholy  persistence  to  a  theme 
which  even  they,  although  fraught  with  novelty  and 
presage  of  danger,  had  not  altogether  crowded  out. 
And  as  the  sense  of  peril  dulled,  the  craft  of  soph 
istry  grew  clumsy.  Remorse  laid  hold  upon  him  in 
these  dim  watches  of  the  night  Self-reproach  had 
found  him  out  here,  defenceless  so  far  from  the  spe 
cious  wiles  and  ways  of  men.  All  the  line  of  provo- 


46  THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE 

cations  seemed  slight,  seemed  naught,  as  he  reviewed 
them  and  balanced  them  against  a  human  life.  True, 
it  was  not  in  some  mad  quarrel  that  his  skill  had 
taken  it  and  had  served  to  keep  his  own — a  duel,  a 
fair  fight,  strictly  regular  according  to  the  code  of 
"  honorable  men  "  for  ages  past — and  he  sought  to 
argue  that  it  was  doubtless  but  the  morbid  sense  of 
the  wild  fastnesses  without,  the  illimitable  vastness 
of  the  black  night,  the  unutterable  indurability  of  nat 
ure  to  the  influences  of  civilization,  which  made  it 
taste  like  murder.  He  had  brought  away  even  from 
the  scene  of  action,  to  which  he  had  gone  with  de 
corous  deliberation  —  his  worldly  affairs  arranged 
for  the  possibility  of  death,  his  will  made,  his  voli 
tion  surrendered,  and  his  sacred  honor  in  the  hands 
of  his  seconds  —  a  humiliating  recollection  of  the 
sudden  revulsion  of  the  aspect  of  all  things  ;  the 
criminal  sense  of  haste  with  which  he  was  hurried 
away  after  that  first  straight  shot ;  the  agitation, 
nay,  the  fright  of  his  seconds;  their  eagerness  to  be 
swiftly  rid  of  him,  their  insistence  that  he  should  go 
away  for  a  time,  get  out  of  the  country,  out  of  the 
embarrassing  purview  of  the  law,  which  was  prone 
to  regard  the  matter  as  he  himself  saw  it  now, 
and  which  had  an  ugly  trick  of  calling  things  by 
their  right"  names  in  the  sincere  phraseology  of 
an  indictment.  And  thus  it  was  that  he  was  here, 
remote  from  all  the  usual  lines  of,  flight,  with  his 
affectation  of  being  a  possible  purchaser  for  the 
old  hotel,  far  from  the  railroad,  the  telegraph, 
even  the  postal  service.  Some  time  —  soon,  in 
deed,  it  might  be,  when  the  first  flush  of  excite 
ment  and  indignation  should  be  overpast,  and  the 


THE   PHANTOMS    OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE  47 

law,  like  a  barking  dog  that  will  not  bite,  should 
have  noisily  exhausted  the  gamut  of  its  devoirs — he 
would  go  back  and  live  according  to  his  habit  in  his 
wonted  place,  as  did  other  men  whom  he  had  known 
to  be  "called  out,"  and  who  had  survived  their  op 
ponents.  Meantime  he  heard  the  ash  crumble ;  he 
saw  the  lighted  room  wane  from  glancing  yellow  to 
a  dull  steady  red,  and  so  to  dusky  brown  ;  he  marked 
the  wind  rise,  and  die  away,  and  come  again,  bang 
ing  the  doors  of  the  empty  rooms,  and  setting  tim 
bers  all  strangely  to  creaking  as  under  sudden  tram 
pling  feet ;  then  lift  into  the  air  with  a  rustling  sound 
like  the  stir  of  garments  and  the  flutter  of  wings, 
calling  out  weirdly  in  the  great  voids  of  the  upper 
atmosphere. 

He  had  welcomed  the  sense  of  fatigue  earlier  in 
the  evening,  for  it  promised  sleep.  Now  it  had 
slipped  away  from  him.  He  was  strong  and  young, 
and  the  burning  sensation  that  the  frosty  air  had 
left  on  his  face  was  the  only  token  of  the  long  jour 
ney.  It  seemed  as  if  he  would  never  sleep  again 
as  he  lay  on  the  lounge  watching  the  gray  ash  grad 
ually  overgrow  the  embers,  till  presently  only  a 
vague  dull  glow  gave  intimation  of  the  position  of 
the  hearth  in  the  room.  And  then,  bereft  of  this 
dim  sense  of  companionship,  he  stared  wide-eyed 
in  the  darkness,  feeling  the  only  creature  alive  and 
awake  in  all  the  world.  No  ;  the  fox  was  suddenly 
barking  within  the  quadrangle  —  a  strangely  wild 
and  alien  tone.  And  presently  he  heard  the  ani 
mal  trot  past  his  door  on  the  piazza,  the  cushioned 
footfalls  like  those  of  a  swift  dog.  He  thought  with 
a  certain  anxiety  of  the  tawny  tiny  owl  that  had  sat 


48  THE    PHANTOMS    OF    THE    FOOT-BRIDGE 

like  a  stuffed  ornament  on  the  mantel -piece  of  a 
neighboring  room,  and  he  listened  with  a  quaking 
vicarious  presentiment  of  woe  for  the  sounds  of 
capture  and  despair.  He  was  sensible  of  waiting 
and  hoping  for  the  fox's  bootless  return,  when  he 
suddenly  lost  consciousness. 

How  long  he  slept  he  did  not  know,  but  it  seemed 
only  a  momentary  respite  from  the  torture  of 
memory,  when,  still  in  the  darkness,  thousands  of 
tremulous  penetrating  sounds  were  astir,  and  with 
a  great  start  he  recognized  the  rain  on  the  roof. 
It  was  coming  down  in  steady  torrents  that  made 
the  house  rock  before  the  tumult  of  his  plunging 
heart  was  still,  and  he  was  longing  again  for  the  for- 
getfulness  of  sleep.  In  vain.  The  hours  dragged 
by ;  the  windows  slowly,  slowly  defined  their  dull 
gray  squares  against  the  dull  gray  day  dawning 
without.  The  walls  that  had  been  left  with  only 
the  first  dark  coat  of  plaster,  awaiting  another  sea 
son  for  the  final  decoration,  showed  their  drapings 
of  cobweb,  and  the  names  and  pencilled  scribblings 
with  which  the  fancy  of  transient  bushwhackers  had 
chosen  to  deface  them.  The  locust-trees  within  the 
quadrangle  drearily  tossed  their  branches  to  and 
fro  in  the  wind,  the  bark  very  black  and  distinct 
against  the  persistent  gray  lines  of  rain  and  the 
white  walls  of  the  galleried  buildings  opposite ;  the 
gutters  were  brimming,  roaring  along  like  miniature 
torrents ;  nowhere  was  the  fox  or  the  owl  to  be 
seen.  Somehow  their  presence  would  have  been 
a  relief — the  sight  of  any  living  thing  reassuring. 
As  he  walked  slowly  along  the  deserted  piazzas, 
in  turning  sudden  corners,  again  and  again  he 


THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE  49 

paused,  expecting  that  something,  some  one,  was 
approaching  to  meet  him.  When  at  last  he  mount 
ed  his  horse,  that  had  neighed  gleefully  to  see 
him,  and  rode  away  through  the  avenue  and  along 
the  empty  ways  among  the  untenanted  summer  cot 
tages,  all  the  drearier  and  more  forlorn  because  of 
the  rain,  he  felt  as  if  he  had  left  an  aberration, 
some  hideous  dream,  behind,  instead  of  the  stark 
reality  of  the  gaunt  and  vacant  and  dilapidated 
old  house. 

The  transition  to  the  glow  and  cheer  of  Sim 
Roxby's  fireside  was  like  a  rescue,  a  restoration. 
The  smiling  welcome  in  the  women's  eyes,  their 
soft  drawling  voices,  with  mellifluous  intonations 
that  gave  a  value  to  each  commonplace  simple 
word,  braced  his  nerves  like  a  tonic.  It  might  have 
been  only  the  contrast  with  the  recollections  of  the 
night,  with  the  prospect  visible  through  the  open 
door — the  serried  lines  of  rain  dropping  aslant  from 
the  gray  sky  and  elusively  outlined  against  the  dark 
masses  of  leafless  woods  that  encircled  the  clear 
ing  ;  the  dooryard  half  submerged  with  puddles  of 
a  clay-brown  tint,  embossed  always  with  myriads  of 
protruding  drops  of  rain,  for  however  they  melted 
away  the  downpour  renewed  them,  and  to  the  eye 
they  were  stationary,  albeit  pervaded  with  a  con 
tinual  tremor — but  somehow  he  was  cognizant  of  a 
certain  coddling  tenderness  in  the  old  woman's 
manner  that  might  have  been  relished  by  a  petted 
child,  an  unaffected  friendliness  in  the  girl's  clear 
eyes.  They  made  him  sit  close  to  the  great  wood 
fire  ;  the  blue  and  yellow  flames  gushed  out  from 
the  piles  of  hickory  logs,  and  the  bed  of  coals 


50  THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE 

gleamed  at  red  and  white  heat  beneath.  They  took 
his  hat  to  carefully  dry  it,  and  they  spread  out  his 
cloak  on  two  chairs  at  one  side  of  the  room,  where 
it  dismally  dripped.  When  he  ventured  to  sneeze, 
Mrs.  Roxby  compounded  and  administered  a  "yerb 
tea,"  a  sovereign  remedy  against  colds,  which  he 
tasted  on  compulsion  and  in  great  doubt,  and 
swallowed  with  alacrity  and  confidence,  finding  its 
basis  the  easily  recognizable  "toddy."  He  had 
little  knowledge  how  white  and  troubled  his  face 
had  looked  as  he  came  in  from  the  gray  day,  how 
strongly  marked  were  those  lines  of  sharp  mental 
distress,  how  piteously  apparent  was  his  mute  ap 
peal  for  sympathy  and  comfort. 

"  MiU'cent,"  said  the  old  woman  in  the  shed-room, 
as  they  washed  and  wiped  the  dishes  after  the  cozy 
breakfast  of  venison  and  corn-dodgers  and  honey 
and  milk,  "  that  thar  man  hev  run  agin  the  law, 
sure's  ye  air  born." 

Millicent  turned  her  reflective  fair  face,  that 
seemed  whiter  and  more  delicate  in  the  damp 
dark  day,  and  looked  doubtfully  out  over  the 
fields,  where  the  water  ran  in  steely  lines  in  the 
furrows. 

"  Mus'  hev  been  by  accident  or  suthin'.  He  ain't 
no  hardened  sinner." 

"Shucks!"  the  old  woman  commented  upon  her 
reluctant  acquiescence.  "  I  ain't  keerin'  for  the 
law !  'Tain't  none  o'  my  job.  The  tomfool  men 
make  an'  break  it.  Ennybody  ez  hev  seen  this  war 
air  obleeged  to  take  note  o'  the  wickedness  o'  men 
in  gineral.  This  hyer  man  air  a  sorter  pitiful  sin 
ner,  an'  he  hev  got  a  look  in  his  eyes  that  plumb 


THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE   FOOT-BRIDGE  51 

teches  my  heart.  I  'ain't  got  no  call  ter  know 
nuthin'  'bout  the  law,  bein'  a  'oman  an'  naterally 
ignorunt.  I  dun'no'  ez  he  hev  run  agin  it." 

"Mus'  hev  been  by  accident,"  said  Millicent, 
dreamily,  still  gazing  over  the  sodden  fields. 

The  suspicion  did  nothing  to  diminish  his  com 
fort  or  their  cordiality.  The  morning  dragged  by 
without  change  in  the  outer  aspects.  The  noontide 
dinner  came  and  went  without  Roxby's  return,  for  the 
report  of  the  washing  away  of  a  bridge  some  miles 
distant  down  the  river  had  early  called  him  out  to  the 
scene  of  the  disaster,  to  verify  in  his  own  interests 
the  rumor,  since  he  had  expected  to  haul  his  wheat 
to  the  settlement  the  ensuing  day.  The  afternoon 
found  the  desultory  talk  still  in  progress  about  the 
fire,  the  old  woman  alternately  carding  cotton  and 
nodding  in  her  chair  in  the  corner ;  the  dogs  ey 
ing  the  stranger,  listening  much  of  the  time  with 
the  air  of  children  taking  instruction,  only  occa 
sionally  wandering  out-of-doors,  the  floor  here 
and  there  bearing  the  damp  imprint  of  their  feet ; 
and  Millicent  on  her  knees  in  the  other  corner,  the 
firelight  on  her  bright  hair,  her  delicate  cheek,  her 
quickly  glancing  eyes,  as  she  deftly  moulded  bul 
lets. 

"  Uncle  Sim  hed  ter  s'render  his  shootin'-irons," 
she  explained,  "  an'  he  'ain't  got  no  ca'tridge-loadin' 
ones  lef.  So  he  makes  out  with  his  old  muzzle- 
loadin'  rifle  that  he  hed  afore  the  war,  an'  I  moulds 
his  bullets  for  him  rainy  days." 

As  she  held  up  a  moulded  ball  and  dexterously 
clipped  off  the  surplus  lead,  the  gesture  was  so 
culinary  in  its  delicacy  that  one  of  the  dogs  in 


52  THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE 

front  of  the  fire  extended  his  head,  making  a  long 
neck,  with  a  tentative  sniff  and  a  glistening  glut 
tonous  eye. 

44  Ef  I  swallered  enny  mo'  lead,  I  wouldn't  take 
it  hot,  Towse,"  she  said,  holding  out  the  bullet  for 
canine  inspection.  "  'Tain't  healthy  !" 

But  the  dog,  perceiving  the  nature  of  the  com 
modity,  drew  back  with  a  look  of  deep  reproach, 
rose  precipitately,  and  with  a  drooping  tail  went  out 
skulkingly  into  the  wet  gray  day. 

"  Towse  can't  abide  a  bullet,"  she  observed,  "  nor 
nuthin'  'bout  a  gun.  He  got  shot  wunst  a-huntin', 
an'  he  never  furgot  it.  Jes  show  him  a  gun  an'  he 
ain't  nowhar  ter  be  seen — like  he  war  cotch  up  in 
the  clouds.'' 

"  Good  watch-dog,  I  suppose,"  suggested  Dun- 
das,  striving  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  her  talk. 

44  Naw ;  too  sp'ilt  for  a  gyard-dog — granny  cod 
dled  him  so  whenst  he  got  shot.  He's  jest  vally'ble 
fur  his  conversation,  I  reckon,"  she  continued,  with 
a  smile  in  her  eyes.  "  I  dun'no'  what  else,  but  he 
is  toler'ble  good  company." 

The  other  dogs  pressed  about  her,  the  heads  of 
the  great  hounds  as  high  as  her  own  as  she  sat 
among  them  on  the  floor.  With  bright  eyes  and 
knitted  brows  they  followed  the  motions  of  pouring 
in  the  melted  metal,  the  lifting  of  the  bullets  from 
the  mould,  the  clipping  off  of  the  surplus  lead,  and 
the  flash  of  the  keen  knife. 

Outside  the  sad  light  waned ;  the  wind  sighed 
and  sighed ;  the  dreary  rain  fell ;  the  trees  clashed 
their  boughs  dolorously  together,  and  their  turbu 
lence  deadened  the  sound  of  galloping  horses.  As 


THE   PHANTOMS   OF  THE   FOOT-BRIDGE  53 

Dundas  sat  and  gazed  at  the  girl's  intent  head,  with 
its  fleecy  tendrils  and  its  massive  coil,  the  great 
hounds  beside  her,  all  emblazoned  by  the  firelight 
upon  the  brown  wall  near  by,  with  the  vast  fire 
place  at  hand,  the  whole  less  like  reality  than  some 
artist's  pictured  fancy,  he  knew  naught  of  a  sudden 
entrance,  until  she  moved,  breaking  the  spell,  and 
looked  up  to  meet  the  displeasure  in  Roxby's  eyes 
and  the  dark  scowl  on  Emory  Keenan's  face. 

That  night  the  wind  shifted  to  the  north.  Morn 
ing  found  the  chilled  world  still,  ice  where  the  water 
had  lodged,  all  the  trees  incased  in  glittering  garb 
that  followed  the  symmetry  alike  of  every  bough  and 
the  tiniest  twig,  and  made  splendid  the  splintered 
remnants  of  the  lightning-riven.  The  fields  were 
laced  across  from  furrow  to  furrow,  in  which  the  fro 
zen  water  still  stood  gleaming,  with  white  arabesques 
which  had  known  a  more  humble  identity  as  stubble 
and  crab-grass  ;  the  sky  was  slate-colored,  and  from 
its  sad  tint  this  white  splendor  gained  added  values 
of  contrast.  When  the  sun  should  shine  abroad 
much  of  the  effect  would  be  lost  in  the  too  dazzling 
glister ;  but  the  sun  did  not  shine. 

All  day  the  gray  mood  held  unchanged.  Night 
was  imperceptibly  sifting  down  upon  all  this  white 
ness,  that  seemed  as  if  it  would  not  be  obscured,  as 
if  it  held  within  itself  some  property  of  luminosity, 
when  Millicent,  a  white  apron  tied  over  her  golden 
head,  improvising  a  hood,  its  superfluous  fulness 
gathered  in  many  folds  and  pleats  around  her  neck, 
fichu-wise,  stood  beside  the  ice-draped  fodder-stack 
and  essayed  with  half -numbed  hands  to  insert  a 


54  THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE 

tallow  dip  into  the  socket  of  a  lantern,  all  incrusted 
and  clumsy  with  previous  drippings. 

"  I  dun'no'  whether  I  be  a-goin'  ter  need  this 
hyar  consarn  whilst  milkin'  or  no,"  she  observed, 
half  to  herself,  half  to  Emory,  who,  chewing  a  straw, 
somewhat  surlily  had  followed  her  out  for  a  word 
apart.  "  The  dusk  'pears  slow  ter-night,  but  Spot's 
mighty  late  comin'  home,  an'  old  Sue  air  fractious 
an'  contrairy-minded,  and  feels  mighty  anxious  an' 
oneasy  'boutn  her  calf,  that's  ez  tall  ez  she  is  nowa 
days,  an'  don't  keer  no  mo'  'bout  her  mammy  'n  a 
half-grown  human  does.  I  tell  her  she  oughtn't  ter 
be  mad  with  me,  but  with  the  way  she  brung  up  her 
chile,  ez  won't  notice  her  now." 

She  looked  up  with  a  laugh,  her  eyes  and  teeth 
gleaming  ;  her  golden  hair  still  showed  its  color  be 
neath  the  spotless  whiteness  of  her  voluminous  head 
gear,  and  the  clear  tints  of  her  complexion  seemed 
all  the  more  delicate  and  fresh  in  the  snowy  pallor  of 
the  surroundings  and  the  grayness  of  the  evening. 

"  I  reckon  I'd  better  take  it  along,"  and  once  more 
she  addressed  herself  to  the  effort  to  insert  the  dip 
into  the  lantern. 

Emory  hardly  heard.  His  pulse  was  quick.  His 
eye  glittered.  He  breathed  hard  as,  with  both 
hands  in  his  pockets,  he  came  close  to  her. 

"  Mill'cent,"  he  said,  "  I  told  ye  the  t'other  day 
ez  ye  thunk  a  heap  too  much  o'  that  thar  stran- 
ger-" 

"  An'  I  tole  ye,  bubby,  that  I  didn't  think  nuthin' 
o'  nobody  but  you-uns,"  she  interrupted,  with  an 
effort  to  placate  his  jealousy.  The  little  jocularity 
which  she  affected  dwindled  and  died  before  the 


THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE  55 

steady  glow  of  his  gaze,  and  she  falteringly  looked 
at  him,  her  unguided  hands  futilely  fumbling  with 
the  lantern. 

"  Ye  can't  fool  me,"  he  stoutly  asseverated. 
"  Ye  think  mo'  o'  him  'n  o1  me,  kase  ye  'low  he  air 
rich,  an'  book-larned,  an'  smooth-fingered,  an'  fini- 
fied  ez  a  gal,  an'  goin'  ter  buy  the  hotel.  I  say, 
hotel!  Now  /'//  tell  ye  what  he  is  — I'll  tell  ye! 
He's  a  criminal.  He's  runnin'  from  the  law.  He's 
hidin'  in  the  old  hotel  that  he's  purtendin'  ter  buy." 

She  stared  wide-eyed  and  pallid,  breathless  and 
waiting. 

He  interpreted  her  expression  as  doubt,  denial. 

"It's  gospel  sure,"  he  cried.  "Fur  this  very 
evenin'  I  met  a  gang  o'  men  an'  the  sheriff's  deputy 
down  yander  by  the  sulphur  spring  'bout  sundown, 
an'  he  'lowed  ez  they  war  a-sarchin'  fur  a  criminal 
•ez  war  skulkin'  round  hyarabout  lately  —  ez  they 
wanted  a  man  fur  hevin'  c'mitted  murder." 

"  But  ye  didn't  accuse  him,  surely ;  ye  hed  no 
right  ter  s'picion  him.  Uncle  Sim  !  Oh,  my  Lord ! 
Ye  surely  wouldn't!  Oh,  Uncle  Sim  !" 

Her  tremulous  words  broke  into  a  quavering  cry 
as  she  caught  his  arm  convulsively,  for  his  face  con 
firmed  her  fears.  She  thrust  him  wildly  away,  and 
started  toward  the  house. 

"  Ye  needn't  go  tattlin'  on  me,"  he  said,  roughly 
pushing  her  aside.  "  I'll  tell  Mr.  Roxby  myself.  I 
ain't  'shamed  o'  what  I  done.  I'll  tell  him.  I'll 
tell  him  myself."  And  animated  with  this  intention 
to  forestall  her  disclosure,  his  long  strides  bore  him 
swiftly  past  and  into  the  house. 

It  seemed  to  him  that  he  lingered  there  only  a 


56  THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE 

moment  or  two,  for  Roxby  was  not  at  the  cabin,  and 
he  said  nothing  of  the  quarrel  to  the  old  woman. 
Already  his  heart  had  revolted  against  his  treach 
ery,  and  then  there  came  to  him  the  further  reflec 
tion  that  he  did  not  know  enough  to  justify  sus 
picion.  Was  not  the  stranger  furnished  with  the 
fullest  credentials  —  a  letter  to  Roxby  from  the 
Colonel  ?  Perhaps  he  had  allowed  his  jealousy  to 
endanger  the  man,  to  place  him  in  jeopardy  even  of 
his  life  should  he  resist  arrest. 

Keenan  tarried  at  the  house  merely  long  enough 
to  devise  a  plausible  excuse  for  his  sudden  excited 
entrance,  and  then  took  his  way  back  to  the  barn 
yard. 

It  was  vacant.  The  cows  still  stood  lowing  at 
the  bars  ;  the  sheep  cowered  together  in  their  shed  ; 
the  great  whitened  cone  of  the  fodder-stack  gleamed 
icily  in  the  purple  air ;  beside  it  lay  the  lantern 
where  Millicent  had  cast  it  aside.  She  was  gone  ! 
He  would  not  believe  it  till  he  had  run  to  the 
barn,  calling  her  name  in  the  shadowy  place,  while 
the  horse  at  his  manger  left  his  corn  to  look  over 
the  walls  of  his  stall  with  inquisitive  surprised  eyes, 
luminous  in  the  dusk.  He  searched  the  hen-house, 
where  the  fowls  on  their  perches  crowded  close  be 
cause  of  the  chill  of  the  evening.  He  even  ran  to 
the  bars  and  looked  down  across  the  narrow  ravine 
to  which  the  clearing  sloped.  Beyond  the  chasm- 
like  gorge  he  saw  presently  on  the  high  ascent  op 
posite  footprints  that  had  broken  the  light  frost- 
like  coating  of  ice  on  the  dead  leaves  and  moss — 
climbing  footprints,  swift,  disordered.  He  looked 
back  again  at  the  lantern  where  Millicent  had  flung 


THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE  57 

it  in  her  haste.  Her  mission  was  plain  now.  She 
had  gone  to  warn  Duridas.  She  had  taken  a  direct 
line  through  the  woods.  She  hoped  to  forestall  the 
deputy  sheriff  and  his  posse,  following  the  circuit 
ous  mountain  road. 

Keenan's  lip  curled  in  triumph.  His  heart  burned 
hot  with  scornful  anger  and  contempt  of  the  futility 
of  her  effort.  "  They're  there  afore  she  started  !" 
he  said,  looking  up  at  the  aspects  of  the  hour  shown 
by  the  sky,  and  judging  of  the  interval  since  the 
encounter  by  the  spring.  Through  a  rift  in  the 
gray  cloud  a  star  looked  down  with  an  icy  scintilla 
tion  and  disappeared  again.  He  heard  a  branch  in 
the  woods  snap  beneath  the  weight  of  ice.  A  light 
sprang  into  the  window  of  the  cabin  hard  by,  and 
came  in  a  great  gush  of  orange-tinted  glow  out  into 
the  snowy  bleak  wintry  space.  He  suddenly  leaped 
over  the  fence  and  ran  like  a  deer  through  the  woods. 

Millicent  too  had  been  swift.  He  had  thought  to 
overtake  her  before  he  emerged  from  the  woods  into 
the  more  open  space  where  the  hotel  stood.  In  this 
quarter  the  cloud-break  had  been  greater.  Toward 
the  west  a  fading  amber  glow  still  lingered  in  long 
horizontal  bars  upon  the  opaque  gray  sky.  The 
white  mountains  opposite  were  hung  with  purple 
shadows  borrowed  from  a  glimpse  of  sunset  some 
where  far  away  over  the  valley  of  East  Tennessee ; 
one  distant  lofty  range  was  drawn  in  elusive  snowy 
suggestions,  rather  than  lines,  against  a  green  space 
of  intense  yet  pale  tint.  The  moon,  now  nearing 
the  full,  hung  over  the  wooded  valley,  and  aided 
the  ice  and  the  crust  of  snow  to  show  its  bleak, 
wan,  wintry  aspect ;  a  tiny  spark  glowed  in  its  depths 


58  THE    PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE 

from  some  open  door  of  an  isolated  home.  Over 
it  all  a  mist  was  rising  from  the  east,  drawing  its 
fleecy  but  opaque  curtain.  Already  it  had  climbed 
the  mountain-side  and  advanced,  windless,  sound 
less,  overwhelming,  annihilating  all  before  and  be 
neath  it.  The  old  hotel  had  disappeared,  save  that 
here  and  there  a  gaunt  gable  protruded  and  was 
withdrawn,  showed  once  more,  and  once  more  was 
submerged. 

A  horse's  head  suddenly  looking  out  of  the  en 
veloping  mist  close  to  his  shoulder  gave  him  the 
first  intimation  of  the  arrival,  the  secret  silent  wait 
ing,  of  those  whom  he  had  directed  hither.  That 
the  saddles  were  empty  he  saw  a  moment  later. 
The  animals  stood  together  in  a  row,  hitched  to 
the  rack.  No  disturbance  sounded  from  the  silent 
building.  The  event  was  in  abeyance.  The  fugi 
tive  in  hiding  was  doubtless  at  ease,  unsuspecting, 
while  the  noiseless  search  of  the  officers  for  his 
quarters  was  under  way. 

With  a  thrill  of  excitement  Keenan  crept  stealth 
ily  through  an  open  passage  and  into  the  old  grass- 
grown  spaces  of  the  quadrangle.  Night  possessed 
the  place,  but  the  cloud  seemed  denser  than  the 
darkness.  He  was  somehow  sensible  of  its  convo 
lutions  as  he  stood  against  the  wall  and  strained 
his  eyes  into  the  dusk.  Suddenly  it  was  pene 
trated  by  a  milky-white  glimmer,  a  glimmer  dupli 
cated  at  equidistant  points,  each  fading  as  its  suc 
cessor  sprang  into  brilliance.  The  next  moment 
he  understood  its  significance.  It  had  come  from 
the  blurred  windows  of  the  old  ball-room.  Milli- 
cent  had  lighted  her  candle  as  she  searched  for  the 


THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE   FOOT-BRIDGE  59 

fugitive's  quarters ;  she  was  passing  down  the 
length  of  the  old  house  on  the  second  story,  and 
suddenly  she  emerged  upon  the  gallery.  She  shield 
ed  the  feeble  flicker  with  her  hand  ;  her  white- 
hooded  head  gleamed  as  with  an  aureola  as  the  di 
vergent  rays  rested  on  the  opaque  mist ;  and  now 
and  again  she  clutched  the  baluster  and  walked 
with  tremulous  care,  for  the  flooring  was  rotten  here 
and  there,  and  ready  to  crumble  away.  Her  face 
was  pallid,  troubled ;  and  Dundas,  who  had  been 
warned  by  the  tramp  of  horses  and  the  tread  of 
men,  and  who  had  descended  the  stairs,  revolver  in 
hand,  ready  to  slip  away  if  he  might  under  cover 
of  the  mist,  paused  appalled,  gazing  across  the  quad 
rangle  as  on  an  apparition — the  sight  so  familiar  to 
his  senses,  so  strange  to  his  experience.  He  saw 
in  an  abrupt  shifting  of  the  mist  that  there  were 
other  figures  skulking  in  doorways,  watching  her 
progress.  The  next  moment  she  leaned  forward  to 
clutch  the  baluster,  and  the  light  of  the  candle  fell 
full  on  Emory  Keenan,  lurking  in  the  open  passage. 
A  sudden  sharp  cry  of  "  Surrender  !" 
The  young  mountaineer,  confused,  swiftly  drew 
his  pistol.  Others  were  swifter  still.  A  sharp 
report  rang  out  into  the  chill  crisp  air,  rousing  all 
the  affrighted  echoes  —  a  few  faltering  steps,  a 
heavy  fall,  and  for  a  long  time  Emory  Keenan's 
life-blood  stained  the  floor  of  the  promenade.  Even 
when  it  had  faded,  the  rustic  gossips  came  often 
and  gazed  at  the  spot  with  morbid  interest,  until,  a 
decade  later,  an  enterprising  proprietor  removed 
the  floor  and  altered  the  shape  of  that  section  of 
the  building  out  of  recognition. 


60  THE   PHANTOMS   OF   THE    FOOT-BRIDGE 

The  escape  of  Dundas  was  easily  effected.  The 
deputy  sheriff,  confronted  with  the  problem  of  sat 
isfactorily  accounting  for  the  death  of  a  man  who 
had  committed  no  offence  against  public  polity,  was 
no  longer  formidable.  His  errand  had  been  the 
arrest  of  a  horse-thief,  well-known  to  him,  and  he 
had  no  interest  in  pursuing  a  fugitive,  however  ob 
noxious  to  the  law,  whose  personal  description  was 
so  different  from  that  of  the  object  of  his  search. 

Time  restored  to  Dundas  his  former  place  in  life 
and  the  esteem  of  his  fellow-citizens.  His  stay  in 
the  mountains  was  an  episode  which  he  will  not 
often  recall,  but  sometimes  volition  fails,  and  he 
marvels  at  the  strange  fulfilment  of  the  girl's  vision  ; 
he  winces  to  think  that  her  solicitude  for  his  safety 
should  have  cost  her  her  lover ;  he  wonders  whether 
she  yet  lives,  and  whether  that  tender  troubled 
phantom,  on  nights  when  the  wind  is  still  and  the 
moon  is  low  and  the  mists  rise,  again  joins  the 
strange,  elusive,  woful  company  crossing  the  quak 
ing  foot-bridge. 


HIS  "DAY   IN    COURT 


HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT" 

IT  had  been  a  hard  winter  along  the  slopes  of 
the  Great  Smoky  Mountains,  and  still  the  towering 
treeless  domes  were  covered  with  snow,  and  the 
vagrant  winds  were  abroad,  rioting  among  the  clifty 
heights  where  they  held  their  tryst,  or  raiding  down 
into  the  sheltered  depths  of  the  Cove,  where  they 
seldom  intruded.  Nevertheless,  on  this  turbulent 
rush  was  borne  in  the  fair  spring  of  the  year.  The 
fragrance  of  the  budding  wild-cherry  was  to  be  dis 
cerned  amidst  the  keen  slanting  javelins  of  the  rain. 
A  cognition  of  the  renewal  and  the  expanding  of 
the  forces  of  nature  pervaded  the  senses  as  dis 
tinctly  as  if  one  might  hear  the  grass  growing,  or 
feel  along  the  chill  currents  of  the  air  the  vernal 
pulses  thrill.  Night  after  night  in  the  rifts  of  the 
breaking  clouds  close  to  the  horizon  was  glimpsed 
the  stately  sidereal  Virgo,  prefiguring  and  promising 
the  harvest,  holding  in  her  hand  a  gleaming  ear  of 
corn.  But  it  was  not  the  constellation  which  the  tu 
multuous  torrent  at  the  mountain's  base  reflected 
in  a  starry  glitter.  From  the  hill-side  above  a  light 
cast  its  broken  image  among  the  ripples,  as  it  shone 
for  an  instant  through  the  bosky  laurel,  white,  stel 
lular,  splendid— only  a  tallow  dip  suddenly  placed 
in  the  window  of  a  log-cabin,  and  as  suddenly  with 
drawn. 


64  HIS    "  DAY    IN    COURT  " 

For  a  gruff  voice  within  growled  out  a  remon 
strance  :  "  What  ye  doin'  that  fur,  Steve  ?  Hev 
that  thar  candle  got  enny  call  ter  bide  in  that  thar 
winder  ?" 

The  interior,  contrary  to  the  customary  aspect  of 
the  humble  homes  of  the  region,  was  in  great  dis 
array.  Cooking  utensils  stood  uncleaned  about  the 
hearth  ;  dishes  and  bowls  of  earthen -ware  were  as 
sembled  upon  the  table  in  such  numbers  as  to  sug 
gest  that  several  meals  had  been  eaten  without  the 
ceremony  of  laying  the  cloth  anew,  and  that  in  de 
fault  of  washing  the  crockery  it  had  been  re-enforced 
from  the  shelf  so  far  as  the  limited  store  might  ad 
mit.  Saddles  and  spinning-wheels,  an  ox-yo\e 
and  trace-chains,  reels  and  wash-tubs,  were  incon 
gruously  pushed  together  in  the  corners.  Only  one 
of  the  three  men  in  the  room  made  any  effort 
to  reduce  the  confusion  to  order.  This  was  the 
square-faced,  black-bearded,  thick-set  young  fellow 
who  took  the  candle  from  the  window,  and  now  ad 
vanced  with  it  toward  the  hearth,  holding  it  at  an 
angle  that  caused  the  flame  to  swiftly  melt  the  tal 
low,  which  dripped  generously  upon  the  floor. 

"  I  hev  seen  Eveliny  do  it,"  he  said,  excitedly 
justifying  himself.  "  I  noticed  her  sot  the  candle 
in  the  winder  jes'  las'  night  arter  supper."  He 
glanced  about  uncertainly,  and  his  patience  seemed 
to  give  way  suddenly.  "  Dad-burn  the  old  candle  ! 
I  dunno  whar  ter  set  it,"  he  cried,  desperately,  as 
he  flung  it  from  him,  and  it  fell  upon  the  floor  close 
to  the  wall. 

The  dogs  lifted  their  heads  to  look,  and  one  soft- 
stepping  old  hound  got  up  with  the  nimbleness  of 


HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT"  65 

expectation,  and,  with  a  prescient  gratitude  astir 
in  his  tail,  went  and  sniffed  at  it.  His  aspect 
drooped  suddenly,  and  he  looked  around  in  re 
proach  at  Stephen  Quimbey,  as  if  suspecting  a 
practical  joke.  But  there  was  no  merriment  in  the 
young  mountaineer's  face.  He  threw  himself  into 
his  chair  with  a  heavy  sigh,  and  desisted  for  a  time 
from  the  unaccustomed  duty  of  clearing  away  the 
dishes  after  supper. 

"  An'  'ain't  ye  got  the  gumption  ter  sense  what 
Eveliny  sot  the  candle  in  the  winder  fur  ?"  his 
brother  Timothy  demanded,  abruptly — "  ez  a  sign 
ter  that  thar  durned  Abs'lom  Kittredge." 

The  other  two  men  turned  their  heads  and  looked 
at  the  speaker  with  a  poignant  intensity  of  interest. 
"  I  'lowed  ez  much  when  I  seen  that  light  ez  I  war 
a-kemin'  home  las'  night,"  he  continued  ;  "it  shined 
spang  down  the  slope  acrost  the  ruver  an'  through 
all  the  laurel ;  it  looked  plumb  like  a  star  that  hed 
fell  ter  yearth  in  that  pitch-black  night.  I  dun- 
no  how  I  s'picioned  it,  but  ez  I  stood  thar  an' 
gazed  I  knowed  somebody  war  a-standin'  an'  gazin' 
too  on  the  foot-bredge  a  mite  ahead  o'  me.  I 
couldn't  see  him,  an'  he  couldn't  turn  back  an1  pass 
me,  the  bredge  bein'  too  narrer.  He  war  jes 
obligated  ter  go  on.  I  hearn  him  breathe  quick ; 
then— pit-pat,  pit-pat,  ez  he  walked  straight  toward 
that  light.  An'  he  be  'bleeged  ter  hev  hearn  me, 
fur  arter  I  crost  I  stopped.  Nuthin'.  Jes'  a  whis 
per  o'  wind,  an'  jes'  a  swishin'  from  the  ruver.  I 
knowed  then  he  hed  turned  off  inter  the  laurel. 
An'  I  went  on,  a-whistlin'  ter  make  him  'low  ez  I 
never  s'picioned  nuthin'.  An'  I  kem  inter  the 

5 


66  HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT" 

house  an'  tole  dad  ez  he'd  better  be  a-lookin'  arter 
Eveliny,  fur  I  b'lieved  she  war  a-settin'  her  head 
ter  run  away  an'  marry  Abs'lom  Kittredge." 

"Waal,  I  ain't  right  up  an'  down  sati'fied  we 
oughter  done  what  we  done,"  exclaimed  Stephen, 
fretfully.  "  It  don't  'pear  edzacly  right  fur  three 
men  ter  fire  on  one." 

Old  Joel  Quimbey,  in  his  arm-chair  in  the  chim 
ney-corner,  suddenly  lifted  his  head — a  thin  head 
with  fine  white  hair,  short  and  sparse,  upon  it.  His 
thin,  lined  face  was  clear-cut,  with  a  pointed  chin 
and  an  aquiline  nose.  He  maintained  an  air  of  in 
dignant  and  rebellious  grief,  and  had  hitherto  sat 
silent,  a  gnarled  and  knotted  hand  on  either  arm 
of  his  chair.  His  eyes  gleamed  keenly  from  un 
der  his  heavy  brows  as  he  turned  his  face  upon 
his  sons.  "  How  could  we  know  thar  warn't  but 
one,  eh  ?" 

He  had  not  been  a  candidate  for  justice  of  the 
peace  for  nothing ;  he  had  absorbed  something  of 
the  methods  and  spirit  of  the  law  through  sheer 
propinquity  to  the  office.  "  We-uns  wouldn't  be 
persumed  ter  know"  And  he  ungrudgingly  gave 
himself  all  the  benefit  of  the  doubt  that  the  law 
accords. 

"That's  a  true  word  !"  exclaimed  Stephen,  quick 
to  console  his  conscience.  "  Jes'  look  at  the  fac's, 
now.  We-uns  in  a  plumb  black  midnight  hear  a  man 
a-gittin'  over  our  fence  ;  we  git  our  rifles  ;  a-peekin' 
through  the  chinkin'  we  ketch  a  glimge  o'  him — " 

"  Ha !"  cried  out  Timothy,  with  savage  satisfac 
tion,  "  we  seen  him  by  the  light  she  set  ter  lead 
him  on  !" 


"OLD    JOEL    QUIMBEY  " 


HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT"  67 

He  was  tall  and  lank,  with  a  delicately  hooked 
nose,  high  cheek-bones,  fierce  dark  eyes,  and  dark 
eyebrows,  which  were  continually  elevated,  corru 
gating  his  forehead.  His  hair  was  black,  short  and 
straight,  and  he  was  clad  in  brown  jeans,  as  were 
the  others,  with  great  cowhide  boots  reaching  to 
the  knee.  He  fixed  his  fiery  intent  gaze  on  his 
brother  as  the  slower  Stephen  continued,  "  An'  so 
we  blaze  away — " 

"  An'  one  durned  fool's  so  onlucky  ez  ter  hit  him 
an'  not  kill  him,"  growled  Timothy,  again  interrupt 
ing.  "  An'  so  whilst  Eveliny  runs  out  a-screamin', 
*  He's  dead  !  he's  dead  ! — ye  hev  shot  him  dead  !' 
we-uns  make  no  doubt  but  he  is  dead,  an'  load  up 
agin,  lest  his  frien's  mought  rush  in  on  we-uns 
whilst  we  hedn't  no  use  o'  our  shootin'-irons.  An' 
suddint — ye  can't  hear  nuthin'  but  jes'  a  owel  hoot- 
in'  in  the  woods,  or  old  Pa'son  Bates's  dogs  a-howlin' 
acrost  the  Cove.  An'  we  go  out  with  a  lantern, 
an'  thar's  jes'  a  pool  o'  blood  in  the  dooryard,  an' 
bloody  tracks  down  ter  the  laurel." 

"  Eveliny  gone  !"  cried  the  old  man,  smiting  his 
hands  together ;  "  my  leetle  darter  !  The  only  one 
ez  never  gin  me  enny  trouble.  I  couldn't  hev 
made  out  ter  put  up  with  this  hyar  worl'  no  longer 
when  my  wife  died  ef  it  hedn't  been  fur  Eveliny. 
Boys  war  wild  an'  mischeevious,  an'  folks  outside 
don't  keer  nuthin'  'bout  ye — ef  they  war  ter  'lect 
ye  ter  office  'twould  be  ter  keep  some  other  feller 
from  hevin'  it,  'kase  they  'spise  him  more'n  ye. 
An'  hyar  she's  runned  off  an'  married  old  Tom 
Kittredge's  gran'son,  Josiah  Kittredge's  son — when 
our  folks  'ain't  spoke  ter  none  o'  'em  fur  fifty  year 


68  HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT" 

— Josiah  Kittredge's  son  —  ha  !  ha  !  ha  !"  He 
laughed  aloud  in  tuneless  scorn  of  himself  and  of 
this  freak  of  froward  destiny  and  then  fell  to  wring 
ing  his  hands  and  calling  upon  Evelina. 

The  flare  from  the  great  chimney  place  genially 
played  over  the  huddled  confusion  of  the  room  and 
the  brown  logs  of  the  wall,  where  the  gigantic 
shadows  of  the  three  men  mimicked  their  every 
gesture  with  grotesque  exaggeration.  The  rainbow 
yarn  on  the  warping  bars,  the  strings  of  red-pepper 
hanging  from  the  ceiling,  the  burnished  metallic 
flash  from  the  guns  on  their  racks  of  deer  antlers, 
served  as  incidents  in  the  monotony  of  the  alternate 
yellow  flicker  and  brown  shadow.  Deep  under  the 
blaze  the  red  coals  pulsated,  and  in  the  farthest  vis 
tas  of  the  fire  quivered  a  white  heat. 

"Old  Tom  Kittredge,"  the  father  resumed,  after 
a  time,  "he  jes'  branded  yer  gran'dad's  cattle  with 
his  mark ;  he  jes'  cheated  yer  gran'dad,  my  dad, 
out'n  six  head  o'  cattle." 

"  But  then,"  said  the  warlike  Timothy,  not  willing 
to  lose  sight  of  reprisal  even  in  vague  reminiscence, 
"he  hed  only  one  hand  ter  rob  with  arter  that,  fur  I 
hev  hearn  ez  how  when  gran'dad  got  through  with 
him  the  doctor  hed  ter  take  his  arm  off." 

"  Sartainly,  sartainly,"  admitted  the  old  man,  in 
quiet  assent.  u<  An  Josiah  Kittredge  he  put  out 
the  eyes  of  a  horse  critter  o'  mine  right  thar  at  the 
court-house  door — " 

"  Waal,  artenvard,  we  -  uns  fired  his  house  over 
his  head,"  put  in  Tim. 

"  An'  Josiah  Kittredge  an'  me,"  the  old  man 
went  on,  "  we-uns  clinched  every  time  \ve  met  in 


HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT"  69 

this  mortal  life.  Every  time  I  go  past  the  grave 
yard  whar  he  be  buried  I  kin  feel  his  fingers  on 
my  throat.  He  had  a  nervy  grip,  but  no  variation ; 
he  always  tuk  holt  the  same  way." 

"  Tears  like  ter  me  ez  'twar  a  fust-rate  time  ter 
fetch  out  the  rifles  again,"  remarked  Tim,  "this 
mornin',  when  old  Pa'son  Bates  kem  up  hyar  an' 
'lowed  ez  he  hed  married  Eveliny  ter  Abs'lom 
Kittredge  on  his  death-bed;  '  So  be,  pa'son,'  I  say. 
An1  he  tuk  off  his  hat  an'  say,  '  Thank  the  Lord, 
this  will  heal  the  breach  an'  make  ye  frien's !'  An' 
I  say,  '  Edzacly,  pa'son,  ef  it  air  Abs'lom's  death 
bed  ;  but  them  Kittredges  air  so  smilin'  an'  deceiv- 
in'  I  be  powerful  feared  he'll  cheat  the  King  o' 
Terrors  himself.  I'll  forgive  'em  ennything — over 
his  grave'  " 

"  Pa'son  war  tuk  toler'ble  suddint  in  his  temper," 
said  the  literal  Steve.  "  I  hearn  him  call  yer  talk 
onchristian,  cussed  sentiments,  ez  he  put  out." 

"  Ye  mus'  keep  up  a  Christian  sperit,  boys ;  that's 
the  main  thing,"  said  the  old  man,  who  was  esteemed 
very  religious,  and  a  pious  Mentor  in  his  own  fam 
ily.  He  gazed  meditatively  into  the  fire.  "  What 
ailed  Eveliny  ter  git  so  tuk  up  with  this  hyar  Abs' 
lom  ?  What  made  her  like  him  ?"  he  propounded. 

"  His  big  eyes,  edzacly  like  a  buck's,  an'  his 
long  yaller  hair,"  sneered  the  discerning  Timothy, 
with  the  valid  scorn  of  a  big  ugly  man  for  a  slim 
pretty  one.  "  'Twar  jes  'count  o'  his  long  yaller 
hair  his  mother  called  him  Abs'lom.  He  war 
named  Pete  or  Bob,  I  disremember  what — suthin' 
common — till  his  hair  got  so  long  an'  curly,  an'  he 
sot  out  ter  be  so  plumb  all-fired  beautiful,  an'  his 


70  HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT" 

mother  named  him  agin  ;  this  time  Abs'lom,  arter 
the  king's  son,  'count  o'  his  yaller  hair." 

"  Git  hung  by  his  hair  some  o'  these  days  in  the 
woods,  like  him  the  Bible  tells  about;  that  happened 
ter  the  sure-enough  Abs'lom,"  suggested  Stephen, 
hopefully. 

"Naw,  sir,"  said  Tim;  "when  Abs'lom  Kittredge 
gits  hung  it  '11  be  with  suthin'  stronger'n  hair;  he'll 
stretch  hemp."  He  exchanged  a  glance  of  tri 
umphant  prediction  with  his  brother,  and  anon 
gazed  ruefully  into  the  fire. 

"  Ye  talk  like  ez  ef  he  war  goin'  ter  live,  boys," 
said  old  Joel  Quimbey,  irritably.  "  Pa'son  'lowed 
he  war  powerful  low." 

"  Pa'son  said  he'd  never  hev  got  home  alive 
'thout  she'd  helped  him,"  said  Stephen.  "  She  jes' 
tuk  him  an'  drug  him  plumb  ter  the  bars,  though  I 
don't  see  how  she  done  it,  slim  leetle  critter  ez  she 
be  ;  an'  thar  she  holped  him  git  on  his  beastis ;  an' 
then  —  I  declar'  I  feel  ez  ef  I  could  kill  her  fur 
a-demeanin'  of  herself  so — she  led  that  thar  horse, 
him  a-ridin'  an'  a-leanin'  on  the  neck  o'  the  beastis, 
two  mile  up  the  mountain,  through  the  night." 

"Waal,  let  her  bide  thar.  I'll  look  on  her  face 
no  mo',"  declared  the  old  man,  his  toothless  jaw 
shaking.  "  Kittredge  she  be  now,  an'  none  o'  the 
name  kin  come  a-nigh  me.  How  be  I  ever  a-goin' 
'bout  'mongst  the  folks  at  the  settlement  agin  with 
my  darter  married  ter  a  Kittredge  ?  How  Josiah 
an'  his  dad  mus'  be  a-grinnin'  in  thar  graves  at  me 
this  night !  An'  I  'low  they  hev  got  suthin'  ter  grin 
about." 

And  suddenly  his  grim  face  relaxed,  and  once 


HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT"  71 

more  he  began  to  smite  his  hands  together  and  to 
call  aloud  for  Evelina. 

Timothy  could  offer  no  consolation,  but  stared 
dismally  into  the  fire,  and  Stephen  rose  with  a  sigh 
and  addressed  himself  to  pushing  the  spinning- 
wheels  and  tubs  and  tables  into  the  opposite  cor 
ner  of  the  room,  in  the  hope  of  solving  the  enigma 
of  its  wonted  order. 

It  seemed  to  Evelina  afterward  that  when  she 
climbed  the  rugged  ways  of  the  mountain  slope  in 
that  momentous  night  she  left  forever  in  the  depths 
of  the  Cove  that  free  and  careless  young  identity 
which  she  had  been.  She  did  not  accurately  dis 
criminate  the  moment  in  which  she  began  to  realize 
that  she  was  among  her  hereditary  enemies,  en 
compassed  by  a  hatred  nourished  to  full  propor 
tions  and  to  a  savage  strength  long  before  she  drew 
her  first  breath.  The  fact  only  gradually  claimed 
its  share  in  her  consciousness  as  the  tension  of  anx 
iety  for  Absalom's  sake  relaxed,  for  the  young 
mountaineer's  strength  and  vitality  were  promptly 
reasserted,  and  he  rallied  from  the  wound  and  his 
pallid  and  forlorn  estate  with  the  recuperative 
power  of  the  primitive  man.  By  degrees  she  came 
to  expect  the  covert  unfriendly  glances  his  brother 
cast  upon  her,  the  lowering  averted  mien  Ox  her 
sister-in-law,  and  now  and  again  she  surprised  a 
long,  lingering,  curious  gaze  in  his  mothers  eyes. 
They  were  all  Kittredges !  And  she  wondered  how 
she  could  ever  have  dreamed  that  she  might  live 
happily  among  them — one  of  them,  for  her  name 
was  theirs.  And  then  perhaps  the  young  husband 


72  HIS    "DAY    IN    COURT 

would  stroll  languidly  in,  with  his  long  hair  curling 
on  his  blue  jeans  coat-collar,  and  an  assured  smile 
in  his  dark  brown  eyes,  and  some  lazy  jest  on  his 
lips,  certain  of  a  welcoming  laugh,  for  he  had  been 
so  near  to  death  that  they  all  had  a  sense  of  ac 
quisition  in  that  he  had  been  led  back.  For  his 
sake  they  had  said  little  ;  his  mother  would  busy 
herself  in  brewing  his  "yerb"  tea,  and  his  brother 
would  offer  to  saddle  the  mare  if  he  felt  that  he 
could  ride,  and  they  would  all  be  very  friendly  to 
gether  ;  and  his  alien  wife  would  presently  slip 
out  unnoticed  into  the  "gyarden  spot,"  where  the 
rows  of  vegetables  grew  as  they  did  in  the  Cove, 
turning  upon  her  the  same  neighborly  looks  they 
wore  of  yore,  and  showing  not  a  strange  leaf 
among  them.  The  sunshine  wrapped  itself  in  its 
old  fine  gilded  gossamer  haze  and  drowsed  upon 
the  verdant  slopes;  the  green  jewelled  "  Juny-bugs  " 
whirred  in  the  soft  air ;  the  mould  was  as  richly 
brown  as  in  Joel  Quimbey's  own  enclosure  ;  the 
flag-lilies  bloomed  beside  the  onion  bed ;  and  the 
woolly  green  leaves  of  the  sage  wore  their  old  deli 
cate  tint  and  gave  out  a  familiar  odor. 

Among  this  quaint  company  of  the  garden  bor 
ders  she  spent  much  of  her  time,  now  hoeing  in  a 
desultory  fashion,  now  leaning  on  the  long  handle 
of  the  implement  and  looking  away  upon  the  far 
reaches  of  the  purple  mountains.  As  they  stretched 
to  vague  distances  they  became  blue,  and  farther 
on  the  great  azure  domes  merged  into  a  still  more 
tender  hue,  and  this  in  turn  melted  into  a  soft  in 
determinate  tint  that  embellished  the  faint  horizon. 
Her  dreaming  eyes  would  grow  bright  and  wistful ; 


HIS   "  DAY    IN    COURT  "  73 

her  rich  brown  curling  hair,  set  free  by  the  yellow 
sun-bonnet  that  slipped  off  her  head  and  upon  her 
shoulders,  would  airily  float  backward  in  the  wind ; 
there  was  a  lithe  grace  in  the  slender  figure,  albeit 
clad  in  a  yellow  homespun  of  a  deep  dye,  and  the 
faded  purplish  neckerchief  was  caught  about  a 
throat  fairer  even  than  the  fair  face,  which  was 
delicately  flushed.  Absalom's  mother,  standing  be 
side  Peter,  the  eldest  son,  in  the  doorway,  watched 
her  long  one  day. 

"  It  all  kem  about  from  that  thar  bran  dance," 
said  Peter,  a  homely  man,  with  a  sterling,  narrow- 
minded  wife  and  an  ascetic  sense  of  religion.  "  Thar 
Satan  waits,  an'  he  gits  nimbler  every  time  ye  shake 
yer  foot.  The  fiddler  gin  out  the  figger  ter  change 
partners,  an'  this  hyar  gal  war  dancin'  opposite  Abs'- 
lom,  ez  hed  never  looked  nigh  her  till  that  day.  The 
gal  didn't  know  what  ter  do  ;  she  jes'  stood  still  ; 
but  Abs'lom  he  jes'  danced  up  ter  her  ez  keerless 
an'  gay  ez  he  always  war,  jes'  like  she  war  ennybody 
else,  an'  when  he  held  out  his  han'  she  gin  him 
hern,  all  a -trembly,  an'  lookin'  up  at  him,  plumb 
skeered  ter  death,  her  eyes  all  wide  an'  sorter  wish 
ful,  like  some  wild  thing  trapped  in  the  woods.  An' 
then  the  durned  fiddler,  moved  by  the  devil,  I'll  be 
be  bound,  plumb  furgot  ter  change  'em  back.  So 
they  danced  haff'n  the  day  tergether.  An'  arter 
that  they  war  forever  a-stealin'  off  an'  accidentally 
meetin'  at  the  spring,  an'  whenst  he  war  a-huntin' 
or  she  drivin'  up  the  cow,  an'  a-courtin'  ginerally, 
till  they  war  promised  ter  marry." 

"  'Twarn't  the  bran  dance ;  'twar  suthin'  ez  fleet- 
in'  an'  ez  useless,"  said  his  mother,  standing  in  the 


74  HIS   "  DAY    IN    COURT  " 

door  and  gazing  at  the  unconscious  girl,  who  was 
leaning  upon  the  hoe,  half  in  the  shadow  of  the 
blooming  laurel  that  crowded  about  the  enclosure 
and  bent  over  the  rail  fence,  and  half  in  the  bur 
nished  sunshine  ;  "  she's  plumb  beautiful — thar's  the 
snare  ez  tangled  Abs'lorrf  s  steps.  I  never  'lowed 
ter  see  the  day  ez  could  show  enny  comfort  fur  his 
dad  bein'  dead,  but  we  hev  been  spared  some  o'  the 
tallest  cavortin'  that  ever  war  seen  sence  the  Big 
Smoky  war  built.  Sometimes  it  plumb  skeers  me  ter 
think  ezwe-uns  hev  got  a  Quimbey  abidin'  up  hyar 
along  o1  we-uns  in  his  house  an'  a-callin'  o1  herse'f 
Kittredge.  I  looks  ter  see  him  a-stalkin'  roun'  hyar 
some  night,  too  outdone  an'  aggervated  ter  rest  in 
his  grave." 

But  the  nights  continued  spectreless  and  peace 
ful  on  the  Great  Smoky,  and  the  same  serene  stars 
shone  above  the  mountain  as  over  the  Cove.  Ev 
elina  could  watch  here,  as  often  before,  the  rising 
moon  ascending  through  a  rugged  gap  in  the  range, 
suffusing  the  dusky  purple  slopes  and  the  black 
crags  on  either  hand  with  a  pensive  glamour,  and 
revealing  the  river  below  by  the  amber  reflection  its 
light  evoked.  She  often  sat  on  the  step  of  the 
porch,  her  elbow  on  her  knees,  her  chin  in  her 
hand,  following  with  her  shining  eyes  the  pearly 
white  mists  loitering  among  the  ranges.  Hear !  a 
dog  barks  in  the  Cove,  a  cock  crows,  a  horn  is 
wound,  far,  far  away  ;  it  echoes  faintly.  And  once 
more  only  the  sounds  of  the  night — that  vague  stir 
in  the  windless  woods,  as  if  the  forest  breathes,  the 
far-away  tinkle  of  water  hidden  in  the  darkness— 
and  the  moon  is  among  the  summits. 


HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT"  75 

The  men  remained  within,  for  Absalom  avoided 
the  chill  night  air,  and  crouched  over  the  smoulder 
ing  fire.  Peter's  wife  sedulously  held  aloof  from 
the  ostracized  Quimbey  woman.  But  her  mother- 
in  -  law  had  fallen  into  the  habit  of  sitting  upon 
the  porch  these  moonlit  nights.  The  sparse,  new 
ly-leafed  hop  and  gourd  vines  clambering  to  its 
roof  were  all  delicately  imaged  on  the  floor,  and 
the  old  woman's  clumsy  figure,  her  grotesque  sun- 
bonnet,  her  awkward  arm-chair,  were  faithfully  re 
produced  in  her  shadow  on  the  log  wall  of  the 
cabin — even  to  the  up-curling  smoke  from  her  pipe. 
Once  she  suddenly  took  the  stem  from  her  mouth. 
"  Eveliny,"  she  said,  "  'pears  like  ter  me  ye  talk 
mighty  little.  Thar  ain't  no  use  in  gittin'  tongue- 
tied  up  hyar  on  the  mounting." 

Evelina  started  and  raised  her  eyes,  dilated  with 
a  stare  of  amazement  at  this  unexpected  overture. 

"  I  ain't  keerin',"  said  the  old  woman,  recklessly, 
to  herself,  although  consciously  recreant  to  the  tra 
ditions  of  the  family,  and  sacrificing  with  a  pang 
her  distorted  sense  of  loyalty  and  duty  to  her 
kindlier  impulse.  "  I  warn't  born  a  Kittredge 
nohow." 

"  Yes,  'm,"  said  Evelina,  meekly ;  "  but  I  don't 
feel  much  like  talkin'  noways ,  I  never  talked 
much,  bein'  nobody  but  men  -  folks  ter  our  house. 
I'd  ruther  hear  ye  talk  'n  talk  myself." 

"  Listen  at  ye  now  !  The  headin'  young  folks  o' 
this  kentry  '11  never  rest  till  they  make  thar  elders 
shoulder  all  the  burdens.  An'  what  air  ye  wantin'  a 
pore  ole  'oman  like  me  ter  talk  about  ?" 

Evelina   hesitated   a  moment,   then   looked  up, 


76  HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT" 

with  a  face  radiant  in  the  moonbeams.  "  Tell  all 
'bout  Abs'lom — afore  I  ever  seen  him." 

His  mother  laughed.  "  Ye  air  a  powerful  fool, 
Eveliny." 

The  girl  laughed  a  little,  too.  "  I  dunno  ez  I 
want  ter  be  no  wiser,"  she  said. 

But  one  was  his  wife,  and  the  other  was  his 
mother,  and  as  they  talked  of  him  daily  and  long, 
the  bond  between  them  was  complete. 

"  I  hev  got  'em  both  plumb  fooled,"  the  hand 
some  Absalom  boasted  at  the  settlement,  when  the 
gossips  wondered  once  more,  as  they  had  often 
done,  that  there  should  be  such  unity  of  interest 
between  old  Joel  Quimbey's  daughter  and  old  Jo- 
siah  Kittredge's  widow.  As  time  went  on  many 
rumors  of  great  peace  on  the  mountain-side  came 
to  the  father's  ears,  and  he  grew  more  testy  daily 
as  he  grew  visibly  older.  These  rumors  multiplied 
with  the  discovery  that  they  were  as  wormwood  and 
gall  to  him.  Not  that  he  wished  his  daughter  to 
be  unhappy,  but  the  joy  which  was  his  grief  and 
humiliation  was  needlessly  flaunted  into  his  face ; 
the  idlers  about  the  county  town  had  invariably  a 
new  budget  of  details,  being  supplied,  somewhat 
maliciously,  it  must  be  confessed,  by  the  Kittredges 
themselves.  The  ceremony  of  planting  one  foot 
on  the  neck  of  the  vanquished  was  in  their  minds 
one  of  the  essential  concomitants  of  victory.  The 
bold  Absalom,  not  thoroughly  known  to  either  of  the 
women  who  adored  him,  was  ingenious  in  expedi 
ents,  and  had  applied  the  knowledge  gleaned  from 
his  wife's  reminiscences  of  her  home,  her  father, 


HIS   "  DAY    IN    COURT  "  77 

and  her  brothers  to  more  accurately  aim  his  darts. 
Sometimes  old  Quimbey  would  fairly  flee  the  town, 
and  betake  himself  in  a  towering  rage  to  his  de 
serted  hearth,  to  brood  futilely  over  the  ashes,  and 
devise  impotent  schemes  of  vengeance. 

He  often  wondered  afterward  in  dreary  retro 
spection  how  he  had  survived  that  first  troublous 
year  after  his  daughter's  elopement,  when  he  was 
so  lonely,  so  heavy-hearted  at  home,  so  harried  and 
angered  abroad.  His  comforts,  it  is  true,  were 
amply  insured  :  a  widowed  sister  had  come  to  pre 
side  over  his  household — a  deaf  old  woman,  who 
had  much  to  be  thankful  for  in  her  infirmity,  for 
Joel  Quimbey  in  his  youth,  before  he  acquired  re 
ligion,  had  been  known  as  a  singularly  profane  man 
— "  a  mos'  survigrus  cusser  "  —  and  something  of 
his  old  proficiency  had  returned  to  him.  Perhaps 
public  sympathy  for  his  troubles  strengthened  his 
hold  upon  the  regard  of  the  community.  For  it 
was  in  the  second  year  of  Evelina's  marriage, 
in  the  splendid  midsummer,  when  all  the  gifts  of 
nature  climax  to  a  gorgeous  perfection,  and  candi 
dates  become  incumbents,  that  he  unexpectedly  at 
tained  the  great  ambition  of  his  life.  He  was  said 
to  have  made  the  race  for  justice  of  the  peace  from 
sheer  force  of  habit,  but  by  some  unexplained  freak 
of  popularity  the  oft -defeated  candidate  was  suc 
cessful  by  a  large  majority  at  the  August  election. 

"  Laws-  a-  massy,  boys,"  he  said,  tremulously,  to 
his  triumphant  sons,  when  the  result  was  announced, 
the  excited  flush  on  his  thin  old  face  suffusing  his 
hollow  veinous  temples,  and  rising  into  his  fine 
white  hair,  "  how  glad  Eveliny  would  hev  been  ef — 


78  HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT" 

ef—  He  was  about  to  say  if  she  had  lived,  for 
he  often  spoke  of  her  as  if  she  were  dead.  He 
turned  suddenly  back,  and  began  to  eagerly  absorb 
the  details  of  the  race,  as  if  he  had  often  before 
been  elected,  with  calm  superiority  canvassing  the 
relative  strength,  or  rather  the  relative  weakness,  of 
the  defeated  aspirants. 

He  could  scarcely  have  measured  the  joy  which 
the  news  gave  to  Evelina.  She  was  eminently  sus 
ceptible  of  the  elation  of  pride,  the  fervid  glow  of 
success ,  but  her  tender  heart  melted  in  sympa 
thetic  divination  of  all  that  this  was  to  him  who 
had  sought  it  so  long,  and  so  unabashed  by  defeat. 
She  pined  to  see  his  triumph  in  his  eyes,  to  hear  it 
in  his  voice.  She  wondered — nay,  she  knew  that 
he  longed  to  tell  it  to  her.  As  the  year  rolled 
around  again  to  summer,  and  she  heard  from  time 
to  time  of  his  quarterly  visits  to  the  town  as  a  mem 
ber  of  the  worshipful  Quarterly  County  Court,  she 
began  to  hope  that,  softened  by  his  prosperity, 
lifted  so  high  by  his  honors  above  all  the  cavillings 
of  the  Kittredges,  he  might  be  more  leniently  dis 
posed  toward  her,  might  pity  her,  might  even  go  so 
far  as  to  forgive. 

But  none  of  her  filial  messages  reached  her  fa 
ther's  fiery  old  heart. 

"  Ye'll  be  sure,  Abs'lom,  ef  ye  see  Joe  Boyd  in 
town,  ye'll  tell  him  ter  gin  dad  my  respec's,  an'  the 
word  ez  how  the  baby  air  a-thrivin',  an'  I  wants  ter 
fetch  him  ter  see  the  fambly  at  home,  ef  they'll 
lemme." 

Then  she  would  watch  Absalom  with  all  the 
confidence  of  happy  anticipation,  as  he  rode  off 


HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT"  79 

down  the  mountain  with  his  hair  flaunting,  and  his 
spurs  jingling,  and  his  shy  young  horse  curveting. 
But  no  word  ever  came  in  response ;  and  some 
times  she  would  take  the  child  in  her  arms  and 
carry  him  down  a  path,  worn  smooth  by  her  own 
feet,  to  a  jagged  shoulder  thrust  out  by  the  moun 
tain  where  all  the  slopes  fell  away,  and  a  crag  beetled 
over  the  depths  of  the  Cove.  Thence  she  could 
discern  certain  vague  lines  marking  the  enclosure, 
and  a  tiny  cluster  of  foliage  hardly  recognizable 
as  the  orchard,  in  the  midst  of  which  the  cabin 
nestled.  She  could  not  distinguish  them,  but  she 
knew  that  the  cows  were  coming  to  be  milked,  low 
ing  and  clanking  their  bells  tunefully,  fording  the 
river  that  had  the  sunset  emblazoned  upon  it,  or 
standing  flank  deep  amidst  its  ripples  ,  the  chickens 
might  be  going  to  roost  among  the  althea  bushes ; 
the  lazy  old  dogs  were  astir  on  the  porch.  She 
could  picture  her  brothers  at  work  about  the  barn  ; 
most  often  a  white-haired  man  who  walked  with  a 
stick — alack  !  she  did  not  fancy  how  feebly,  nor 
that  his  white  hair  had  grown  long  and  venerable, 
and  tossed  in  the  breeze.  "  Ef  he  would  jes  lemme 
kem  fur  one  haff'n  hour !"  she  would  cry. 

But  all  her  griefs  were  bewept  on  the  crag,  that 
there  might  be  no  tears  to  distress  the  tender 
hearted  Absalom  when  she  should  return  to  the 
house. 

The  election  of  Squire  Quimbey  was  a  sad  blow 
to  the  arrogant  spirit  of  the  Kittredges.  They  had 
easily  accustomed  themselves  to  ascendency,  and 
they  hotly  resented  the  fact  that  fate  had  forborne 
the-opportunity  to  hit  Joel  Quimbey  when  he  was 


80  HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT" 

down.  They  had  used  their  utmost  influence  to 
defeat  him  in  the  race,  and  had  openly  avowed 
their  desire  to  see  him  bite  the  dust.  The  inimical 
feeling  between  the  families  culminated  one  rainy 
autumnal  day  in  the  town  where  the  quarterly 
county  court  was  in  session. 

A  fire  had  been  kindled  in  the  great  rusty  stove, 
and  crackled  away  with  grudging  merriment  inside, 
imparting  no  sentiment  of  cheer  to  the  gaunt  bare 
room,  with  its  dusty  window  -  panes  streaked  with 
rain,  its  shutters  drearily  flapping  in  the  wind,  and 
the  floor  bearing  the  imprint  of  many  boots  bur 
dened  with  the  red  clay  of  the  region.  The  sound 
of  slow  strolling  feet  in  the  brick -paved  hall  was 
monotonous  and  somnolent. 

Squire  Quimbey  sat  in  his  place  among  the  jus 
tices.  Despite  his  pride  of  office,  he  had  not  the 
heart  for  business  that  might  formerly  have  been 
his.  More  than  once  his  attention  wandered.  He 
looked  absently  out  of  the  nearest  window  at  the 
neighboring  dwelling  —  a  little  frame-house  with  a 
green  yard ;  a  well-sweep  was  defined  against  the 
gray  sky,  and  about  the  curb  a  file  of  geese  followed 
with  swaying  gait  the  wise  old  gander.  "  What  a 
hand  for  io\\-els  Eveliny  war !"  he  muttered  to  him 
self  ;  "  an'  she  hed  luck  with  sech  critters."  He 
used  the  obituary  tense,  for  Evelina  had  in  some 
sort  passed  away. 

He  rubbed  his  hand  across  his  corrugated  brow, 
and  suddenly  he  became  aware  that  her  husband 
was  in  the  room,  speaking  to  the  chairman  of  the 
county  court,  and  claiming  a  certificate  in  the  sum 
of  two  dollars  each  for  the  scalps  of  one  wolf,  ''an' 


HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT"  8l 

one  painter,"  he  continued,  laying  the  small  furry 
repulsive  objects  upon  the  desk,  "  an'  one  dollar 
fur  the  skelp  of  one  wild-cat."  He  was  ready  to 
take  his  oath  that  these  animals  were  killed  by  him 
running  at  large  in  this  county. 

He  had  stooped  a  little  in  making  the  trans 
fer.  He  came  suddenly  to  his  full  height,  and  stood 
with  one  hand  in  his  leather  belt,  the  other  shoul 
dering  his  rifle.  The  old  man  scanned  him  curi 
ously.  The  crude  light  from  the  long  windows 
was  full  upon  his  tall  slim  figure ;  his  yellow  hair 
curled  down  upon  the  collar  of  his  blue  jeans  coat ; 
his  great  miry  boots  were  drawn  high  over  the  trou 
sers  to  the  knee;  his  pensive  deer-like  eyes  bright 
ened  with  a  touch  of  arrogance  and  enmity  as, 
turning  slowly  to  see  who  was  present,  his  glance 
encountered  his  father-in-law's  fiery  gaze. 

"  Mr.  Cheerman  !  Mr.  Cheerman  !"  exclaimed  the 
old  man,  tremulously,  "  lemme  examinate  that  thar 
wild-cat  skelp.  Thanky,  sir  ;  thanky,  sir  ;  I  wanter 
see  ef  'tain't  ofFn  the  head  o'  some  old  tame  tom 
cat.  An'  this  air  a  painter's  " — affecting  to  scan 
it  by  the  window — "  two  ears  'cordin'  to  law  -,  yes, 
sir,  two ;  and  this  " — his  keen  old  face  had  all  the 
white  light  of  the  sad  gray  day  on  its  bleaching  hair 
and  its  many  lines,  and  his  eager  old  hands  trem 
bled  with  the  excitement  of  the  significant  satire  he 
enacted — "  an'  this  air  a  wolf's,  ye  say  ?  Yes  ;  it's 
a  Kittredge's  ;  same  thing,  Mr.  Cheerman,  by  a 
diff'ent  name  ;  nuthin'  in  the  code  'bout'n  a  pre 
mium  fur  a  Kittredge's  skelp ;  but  same  natur' ; 
coward,  bully,  thief— thief!" 

The  words  in  the  high  cracked  voice  rang  from 


82  HIS    "DAY    IN    COURT" 

the  bare  walls  and  bare  floors  as  he  tossed  the 
scalps  trom  him,  and  sat  down,  laughing  silently  in 
painful,  mirthless  fashion,  his  toothless  jaw  quiver 
ing,  and  his  shaking  hands  groping  for  the  arms  of 
his  chair. 

"Who  says  a  Kittredge  air  a  thief  says  a  lie  !" 
cried  out  the  young  man,  recovering  from  his  tense 
surprise.  "  I  don't  keer  how  old  he  be,"  he  stipu 
lated — for  he  had  not  thought  to  see  her  father  so 
aged—"  he  lies." 

The  old  man  fixed  him  with  a  steady  gaze  and  a 
sudden  alternation  of  calmness.  "  Ye  air  a  Kit 
tredge;  ye  stole  my  daughter  from  me." 

"  I  never.     She  kern  of  her  own  accord." 

"  Damn  ye !"  the  old  man  retorted  to  the  unwel 
come  truth.  There  was  nothing  else  for  him  to 
say.  "  Damn  the  whole  tribe  of  ye ;  everything 
that  goes  by  the  accursed  name  of  Kittredge,  that's 
got  a  drop  o'  yer  blood,  or  a  bone  o'  yer  bones,  or 
a  puff  o'  yer  breath — " 

"  Squair  !  squair !"  interposed  an  officious  old 
colleague,  taking  him  by  the  elbow,  "  jes'  quiet  down 
now;  ye  air  a-cussin'  yer  own  gran'son." 

"  So  be !  so  be  !"  cried  the  old  man,  in  a  frenzy 
of  rage.  "  Damn  'em  all — all  the  Kittredge  tribe  !" 
He  gasped  for  breath ;  his  lips  still  moved  speech 
lessly  as  he  fell  back  in  his  chair. 

Kittredge  let  his  gun  slip  from  his  shoulder,  the 
butt  ringing  heavily  as  it  struck  upon  the  floor. 
"  I  ain't  a-goin'  ter  take  sech  ez  that  off'n  ye,  old 
man,"  he  cried,  pallid  with  fury,  for  be  it  remem 
bered  this  grandson  was  that  august  institution,  a 
first  baby.  "  He  sha'n't  sit  up  thar  an'  cuss  the 


HIS   "  DAY    IN    COURT  "  83 

baby,  Mr.  Cheerman."  He  appealed  to  the  pre 
siding  justice,  holding  up  his  right  arm  as  tremu 
lous  as  old  Quimbey's  own.  "  I  want  the  law !  I 
ain't  a-goin'  ter  tech  a  old  man  like  him,  an'  my 
wife's  father,  so  I  ax  in  the  name  o'  peace  fur  the 
law.  Don't  deny  it"  —  with  a  warning  glance — 
"  'kase  I  ain't  school-lamed,  an'  dunno  how  ter 
get  it.  Don't  ye  deny  me  the  law  !  I  know  the 
law  don't  'low  a  magistrate  an'  a  jestice  ter  cuss  in 
his  high  office,  in  the  presence  of  the  county  court. 
I  want  the  law  !  I  want  the  law  !" 

The  chairman  of  the  court,  who  had  risen  in  his 
excitement,  turning  eagerly  first  to  one  and  then  to 
the  other  of  the  speakers,  striving  to  silence  the 
colloquy,  and  in  the  sudden  surprise  of  it  at  a  mo 
mentary  loss  how  to  take  action,  sat  down  abrupt 
ly,  and  with  a  face  of  consternation.  Profanity 
seemed  to  him  so  usual  and  necessary  an  incident 
of  conversation  that  it  had  never  occurred  to  him 
until  this  moment  that  by  some  strange  aberration 
from  the  rational  estimate  of  essentials  it  was  en 
tered  in  the  code  as  a  violation  of  law.  He  would 
fain  have  overlooked  it,  but  the  room  was  crowded 
with  spectators.  The  chairman  would  be  a  candi 
date  for  re-election  as  justice  of  the  peace  at  the 
expiration  of  his  term.  And  after  all  what  was  old 
Quimbey  to  him,  or  he  to  old  Quimbey,  that,  with 
practically  the  whole  town  looking  on,  he' should 
destroy  his  political  prospects  and  disregard  the 
dignity  of  his  office.  He  had  a  certain  twinge  of 
conscience,  and  a  recollection  of  the  choice  and 
fluent  oaths  of  his  own  repertory,  but  as  he  turned 
over  the  pages  of  the  code  in  search  of  the  section 


84  HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT" 

he  deftly  argued  that  they  were  uttered  in  his  own 
presence  as  a  person,  not  as  a  justice. 

And  so  for  the  first  time  old  Joel  Quimbey  ap 
peared  as  a  law-breaker,  and  was  duly  lined  by  the 
worshipful  county  court  fifty  cents  for  each  oath, 
that  being  the  price  at  which  the  State  rates  the 
expensive  and  impious  luxury  of  swearing  in  the 
hearing  of  a  justice  of  the  peace,  and  which  in  its 
discretion  the  court  saw  fit  to  adopt  in  this  instance. 

The  old  man  offered  no  remonstrance ;  he  said 
not  a  word  in  his  own  defence.  He  silently  drew 
out  his  worn  wallet,  with  much  contortion  of  his 
thin  old  anatomy  in  getting  to  his  pocket,  and  paid 
his  fines  on  the  spot.  Absalom  had  already  left 
the  room,  the  clerk  having  made  out  the  certificates, 
the  chairman  of  the  court  casting  the  scalps  into 
the  open  door  of  the  stove,  that  they  might  be  con 
sumed  by  fire  according  to  law. 

The  young  mountaineer  wore  a  heavy  frown,  and 
his  heart  was  ill  at  ease.  He  sought  some  satis 
faction  in  the  evident  opinion  of  the  crowd  which 
now  streamed  out,  for  the  excitements  within  were 
over,  that  he  had  done  a  fine  thing ;  a  very  clever 
thought,  they  considered  it,  to  demand  the  law  of 
Mr.  Chairman,  that  one  of  their  worships  should 
be  dragged  from  the  bench  and  arraigned  before 
the  quarterly  county  court  of  which  he  was  a  mem 
ber.  The  result  gave  general  satisfaction,  although 
there  were  those  who  found  fault  with  the  court's 
moderation,  and  complained  that  the  least  possible 
cognizance  had  been  taken  of  the  offence. 

"  Ho !  ho  !  ho  !"  laughed  an  old  codger  in  the 
street.  "  I  jes  knowed  that  hurt  old  Joel  Quimbey 


HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT"  85 

wuss  'n  ef  a  body  bed  druv  a  knife  through  him ; 
he's  been  so  proud  o'  bein'  jestice  'mongst  his  bet 
ters,  an'  bein'  'lected  at  las',  many  times  ez  he  hev 
run.  Waal,  Abs'lom,  ye  hev  proved  thar's  law  fur 
jestices  too.  I  tell  ye  ye  hev  got  sense  in  yer  skull- 
i-bone." 

But  Absalom  hung  his  head  before  these  con 
gratulations  ;  he  found  no  relish  in  the  old  man's 
humbled  pride.  Yet  had  he  not  cursed  the  baby, 
lumping  him  among  the  Kittredges  ?  Absalom 
went  about  for  a  time,  with  a  hopeful  anxiety  in 
his  eyes,  searching  for  one  of  the  younger  Quim- 
beys,  in  order  to  involve  him  in  a  fight  that  might 
have  a  provocation  and  a  result  more  to  his  mind. 
Somehow  the  recollection  of  the  quivering  and  aged 
figure  of  his  wife's  father,  of  the  smitten  look  on  his 
old  face,  of  his  abashed  and  humbled  demeanor 
before  the  court,  was  a  reproach  to  him,  vivid  and 
continuously  present  with  his  repetitious  thoughts 
forever  re  -  enacting  the  scene.  His  hands  trem 
bled  •  he  wanted  to  lay  hold  on  a  younger  man,  to 
replace  this  aesthetic  revenge  with  a  quarrel  more 
wholesome  in  the  estimation  of  his  own  conscience. 
But  the  Quimbey  sons  were  not  in  town  to-day. 
He  could  only  stroll  about  and  hear  himself  praised 
for  this  thing  that  he  had  done,  and  wonder  how 
he  should  meet  Evelina  with  his  conscience  thus  ar 
rayed  against  himself  for  her  father's  sake.  "  Plumb 
turned  Quimbey,  I  swear,"  he  said,  in  helpless  re 
proach  to  this  independent  and  coercive  moral  force 
within.  His  dejection,  he  supposed,  had  reached 
its  lowest  limits,  when  a  rumor  pervaded  the  town, 
so  wild  that  he  thought  it  could  be  only  fantasy. 


86  HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT" 

It  proved  to  be  fact.  Joel  Quimbey,  aggrieved, 
humbled,  and  indignant,  had  resigned  his  office,  and 
as  Absalom  rode  out  of  town  toward  the  mountains, 
he  saw  the  old  man  in  his  crumpled  brown  jeans 
suit,  mounted  on  his  white  mare,  jogging  down  the 
red  clay  road,  his  head  bowed  before  the  slanting 
lines  of  rain,  on  his  way  to  his  cheerless  fireside. 
He  turned  off  presently,  for  the  road  to  the  levels 
of  the  Cove  was  not  the  shorter  cut  that  Absalom 
travelled  to  the  mountains.  But  all  the  way  the 
young  man  fancied  that  he  saw  from  time  to  time, 
as  the  bridle-path  curved  in  the  intricacies  of  the 
laurel,  the  bowed  old  figure  among  the  mists,  jog 
ging  along,  his  proud  head  and  his  stiff  neck  bent  to 
the  slanting  rain  and  the  buffets  of  his  unkind  fate. 
And  yet,  pressing  the  young  horse  to  overtake  him, 
Absalom  could  find  naught  but  the  fleecy  mists 
drifting  down  the  bridle-path  as  the  wind  might 
will,  or  lurking  in  the  darkling  nooks  of  the  laurel 
when  the  wind  would. 

The  sun  was  shining  on  the  mountains,  and  Ab 
salom  went  up  from  the  sad  gray  rain  and  through 
the  gloomy  clouds  of  autumn  hanging  over  the 
Cove  into  a  soft  brilliant  upper  atmosphere  —  a 
generous  after-thought  of  summer — and  the  warm 
brightness  of  Evelina's  smile.  She  stood  in  the 
doorway  as  she  saw  him  dismounting,  with  her  fin 
ger  on  her  lips,  for  the  baby  was  sleeping:  he  put 
much  of  his  time  into  that  occupation.  The  tiny 
gourds  hung  yellow  among  the  vines  that  clam 
bered  over  the  roof  of  the  porch,  and  a  brave  jack- 
bean — a  friend  of  the  sheltering  eaves — made  shift 


HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT"  8/ 

to  bloom  purple  and  white,  though  others  of  the 
kind  hung  crisp  and  sere,  and  rattled  their  dry 
bones  in  every  gust.  The  "gyarden  spot"  at  the 
side  of  the  house  was  full  of  brown  and  withered 
skeletons  of  the  summer  growths  ;  among  the  crisp 
blades  of  the  Indian-corn  a  sibilant  voice  was  for 
ever  whispering ;  down  the  tawny-colored  vistas 
the  pumpkins  glowed.  The  sky  was  blue  ;  the  yel 
low  hickory  flaming  against  it  and  hanging  over 
the  roof  of  the  cabin  was  a  fine  color  to  see.  The 
red  sour-wood  tree  in  the  fence  corner  shook  out  a 
myriad  of  white  tassels ;  the  rolling  tumult  of  the 
gray  clouds  below  thickened,  and  he  could  hear  the 
rain  a-falling — falling  into  the  dreary  depths  of  the 
Cove. 

All  this  for  him  :  why  should  he  disquiet  himself 
for  the  storm  that  burst  upon  others  ? 

Evelina  seemed  a  part  of  the  brightness ;  her 
dark  eyes  so  softly  alight,  her  curving  red  lips,  the 
faint  flush  in  her  cheeks,  her  rich  brown  hair,  and 
the  purplish  kerchief  about  the  neck  of  her  yellow 
dress.  Once  more  she  looked  smilingly  at  him, 
and  shook  her  head  and  laid  her  finger  on  her  lip. 

"  I  oughter  been  sati'fied  with  all  I  got,  stiddier 
hectorin1  other  folks  till  they  'ain't  got  no  heart  ter 
hold  on  ter  what  they  been  at  sech  trouble  ter  git," 
he  said,  as  he  turned  out  the  horse  and  strode 
gloomily  toward  the  house  with  the  saddle  over 
his  arm. 

"  Hev  ennybody  been  spiteful  ter  you-uns  ter- 
day  ?"  she  asked,  in  an  almost  maternal  solicitude, 
and  with  a  flash  of  partisan  anger  in  her  eyes. 

"Git  out'n  my  road,  Eveliny,"  he  said,  fretfully, 


HIS    "DAY    IN    COURT" 

pushing  by,  and  throwing  the  saddle  on  the  floor. 
There  was  no  one  in  the  room  but  the  occupant  of 
the  rude  box  on  rockers  which  served  as  cradle. 

Absalom  had  a  swift,  prescient  fear.  "  She'll 
git  it  all  out'n  me  ef  I  don't  look  sharp,"  he  said 
to  himself.  Then  aloud,  "  Whar's  main  ?"  he  de 
manded,  flinging  himself  into  a  chair  and  looking 
loweringly  about. 

"  Topknot  hev  jes  kem  ofFn  her  nest  with  four 
teen  deedies,  an'  she  an1  'Melia  hev  gone  ter  the 
barn  ter  see  'bout'n  'em.1' 

"  Whar's  Pete  ?" 

"A-huntinV 

A  pause.  The  fire  smouldered  audibly  ;  a  hick 
ory-nut  fell  with  a  sharp  thwack  on  the  clapboards 
of  the  roof,  and  rolled  down  and  bounded  to  the 
ground. 

Suddenly:  "I  seen  yer  dad  ter -day,"  he  began, 
without  coercion.  "  He  gin  me  a  cussin',  in  the  court 
room,  'fore  all  the  folks.  He  cussed  all  the  Kit- 
tredges,  all  o'  'em ;  him  too  " — he  glanced  in  the 
direction  of  the  cradle  —  "cussed  'em  black  an' 
blue,  an'  called  me  a  thief  fur  marryin'  ye  an  kerry- 
in'  ye  off." 

Her  face  turned  scarlet,  then  pale.  She  sat 
down,  her  trembling  hands  reaching  out  to  rock  the 
cradle,  as  if  the  youthful  Kittredge  might  be  dis 
turbed  by  the  malediction  hurled  upon  his  tribe. 
But  he  slept  sturdily  on. 

"  Waal,  now,"  she  said,  making  a  great  effort  at 
self-control,  "ye  oughtn't  ter  mind  it.  Ye  know  he 
war  powerful  tried.  I  never  purtended  ter  be  ez 
sweet  an'  pritty  ez  the  baby  air,  but  how  would 


HIS    "DAY    IN    COURT"  89 

you-uns  feel  ef  somebody  ye  despised  war  ter  kem 
Iiyar  an'  tote  him  off  from  we-uns  forever?" 

"  I'd  cut  thar  hearts  out,"  he  said,  with  prompt 
barbarity. 

"  Thar,  now !"  exclaimed  his  wife,  in  triumphant 
logic. 

He  gloomily  eyed  the  smouldering  coals.  He 
was  beginning  to  understand  the  paternal  senti 
ment.  By  his  own  heart  he  was  learning  the  heart 
of  his  wife's  father. 

"  I'd  chop  'em  inter  minch-meat,"  he  continued, 
carrying  his  just  reprisals  a  step  further. 

"  Waal,  don't  do  it  right  now,"  said  his  wife,  try 
ing  to  laugh,  yet  vaguely  frightened  by  his  vehe 
mence. 

"  Eveliny,"  he  cried,  springing  to  his  feet,  "  I  be 
a-goin'  ter  tell  ye  all  'bout'n  it.  I  jes  called  on  the 
cheerman  fur  the  law  agin  him." 

"Agin  dad! — the  law!"  Her  voice  dropped  as 
she  contemplated  aghast  this  terrible  uncompre- 
hended  force  brought  to  oppress  old  Joel  Quim- 
bey ;  she  felt  a  sudden  poignant  pang  for  his  for 
lorn  and  lonely  estate. 

"Never  mind,  never  mind,  Eveliny,"  Absalom 
said,  hastily,  repenting  of  his  frantic  candor  and 
seeking  to  soothe  her. 

"  I  will  mind,"  she  said,  sternly.  "  What  hev  ye 
done  ter  dad  ?" 

"  Nuthin',"  he  replied,  sulkily — "nuthinV 

"  Ye  needn't  try  ter  fool  me,  Abs'lom  Kittredge. 
Ef  ye  ain't  minded  ter  tell  me,  I'll  foot  it  down 
ter  town  an'  find  out.  What  did  the  law  do  ter 
him  ?" 


90  HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT" 

"  Jes  fined  him,"  he  said,  striving  to  make  light 
of  it. 

"  An'  ye  done  that  fur — spite  /"  she  cried.  "  A-set- 
tin'  the  law  ter  chouse  a  old  man  out'n  money,  fur 
gittin'  mad  an'  sayin'  ye  stole  his  only  darter.  Oh, 
I'll  answer  fur  him  " — she  too  had  risen  ;  her  hand 
trembled  on  the  back  of  the  chair,  but  her  face  was 
scornfully  smiling — "he  don't  mind  the  money; 
he'll  never  git  you-uns  fined  ter  pay  back  the 
gredge.  He  don't  take  his  wrath  out  on  folkses' 
wallets ;  he  grips  thar  throats,  or  teches  the  trig 
ger  o'  his  rifle.  Laws-a-massy !  takin'  out  yer  gredge 
that-a-way  !  It's  ^poorer  fur  them  dollars,  Abs'lom 
— 'tain't  him."  She  laughed  satirically,  and  turned 
to  rock  the  cradle. 

"  What  d'ye  want  me  ter  do  ?  Fight  a  old  man  ?" 
he  exclaimed,  angrily. 

She  kept  silence,  only  looking  at  him  with  a 
flushed  cheek  and  a  scornful  laughing  eye. 

He  went  on,  resentfully :  "  I  ain't  'shamed,"  he 
stoutly  asserted.  "  Nobody  'lowed  I  oughter  be. 
It's  him,  plumb  bowed  down  with  shame." 

"  The  shoe's  on  the  fother  foot,"  she  cried. 
"  It's  ye  that  oughter  be  'shamed,  an'  ef  ye  ain't, 
it's  more  shame  ter  ye.  What  hev  he  got  ter  be 
'shamed  of  ?" 

"  'Kase,"  he  retorted,  "  he  war  fetched  up  afore 
a  court  on  a  crim'nal  offence— a-cussin'  afore  the 
court !  Ye  may  think  it's  no  shame,  but  he  do ; 
he  war  so  'shamed  he  gin  up  his  office  ez  jestice  o' 
the  peace,  what  he  hev  run  fur  four  or  five  times, 
an'  always  got  beat  'ceptin'  wunst." 

"Dad!" but  for  the  whisper  she  seemed  turning 


HIS    "DAY    IN    COURT"  91 

to  stone ;  her  dilated  eyes  were  fixed  as  she  stared 
into  his  face. 

"  An'  I  seen  him  a-ridin'  off  from  town  in  the 
rain  arterward,  his  head  hangin'  plumb  down  ter 
the  saddle-bow." 

Her  amazed  eyes  were  still  fastened  upon  his 
face,  but  her  hand  no  longer  trembled  on  the  back 
of  the  chair. 

He  suddenly  held  out  his  own  hand  to  her,  his 
sympathy  and  regret  returning  as  he  recalled  the 
picture  of  the  lonely  wayfarer  in  the  rain  that  had 
touched  him  so.  "  Oh,  Eveliny  !"  he  cried,  "  I  nev 
er  war  so  beset  an'  sorry  an' — " 

She  struck  his  hand  down  •  her  eyes  blazed. 
Her  aspect  was  all  instinct  with  anger. 

"  I  do  declar'  I'll  never  furgive  ye — ter  spite  him 
so — an'  kem  an'  tell  me  f  An'  shame  him  so  ez  he 
can't  hold  his  place  —  an'  kem  an'  tell  me!  An' 
bow  him  down  so  ez  he  can't  show  his  face  whar 
he  hev  been  so  respected  by  all — an'  kem  an'  tell 
me!  An'  all  fur  spite,  fur  he  hev  got  nuthin'  ye 
want  now.  An'  I  gin  him  up  an'  lef  him  lonely, 
an'  all  fur  you-uns.  Ye  air  mean,  Abs'lom  Kit- 
tredge,  an'  I'm  the  mos'  fursaken  fool  on  the  face 
o'  the  yearth  !" 

He  tried  to  speak,  but  she  held  up  her  hand  in 
expostulation. 

"  Nare  word — fur  I  won't  answer.  I  do  declar' 
I'll  never  speak  ter  ye  agin  ez  long  ez  I  live." 

He  flung  away  with  a  laugh  and  a  jeer.  "  That's 
right," he  said,  encouragingly,  "plenty  o'  men  would 
be  powerful  glad  ef  thar  wives  would  take  pattern 
by  that." 


92  HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT 

He  caught  up  his  hat  and  strode  out  of  the  room. 
He  busied  himself  in  stabling  his  horse,  and  in 
looking  after  the  stock.  He  could  hear  the  wom 
en's  voices  from  the  loft  of  the  barn  as  they  dis 
puted  about  the  best  methods  of  tending  the  newly 
hatched  chickens,  that  had  chipped  the  shell  so  late 
in  the  fall  as  to  be  embarrassed  by  the  frosts  and 
the  coming  cold  weather.  The  last  bee  had  ceased 
to  drone  about  the  great  crimson  prince's-feather  by 
the  door-step,  worn  purplish  through  long  flaunting, 
and  gone  to  seed.  The  clouds  were  creeping  up 
and  up  the  slope,  and  others  were  journeying  hith 
er  from  over  the  mountains.  A  sense  of  moisture 
was  in  the  air,  although  a  great  column  of  dust 
sprang  up  from  the  dry  corn-field,  with  panic-strick 
en  suggestions,  and  went  whirling  away,  carrying 
off  withered  blades  in  the  rush.  The  first  drops  of 
rain  were  pattering,  with  a  resonant  timbre  in  the 
midst,  when  Pete  came  home  with  a  newly  killed 
deer  on  his  horse,  and  the  women,  with  fluttering 
skirts  and  sun -bonnets,  ran  swiftly  across  from  the 
barn  to  the  back  door  of  the  shed-room.  Then  the 
heavy  downpour  made  the  cabin  rock. 

"  Why,  Eveliny  an'  the  baby  oughtn't  ter  be  out 
in  this  hyar  rain  —  they'll  be  drenched,"  said  the 
old  woman,  when  they  were  all  safely  housed  ex 
cept  the  two.  "  Whar  be  she  ?" 

"  A-foolin'  in  the  gyarden  spot  a-getherin'  seed  an1 
sech,  like  she  always  be,"  said  the  sister-in-law,  tartly. 

Absalom  ran  out  into  the  rain  without  his  hat, 
his  heart  in  the  clutch  of  a  prescient  terror.  No ; 
the  summer  was  over  for  the  garden  as  well  as  for 
him ;  all  forlorn  and  rifled,  its  few  swaying  shrubs 


HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT"  93 

tossed  wildly  about,  a  mockery  of  the  grace  and 
bloom  that  had  once  embellished  it.  His  wet  hair 
streaming  backward  in  the  wind  caught  on  the 
laurel  boughs  as  he  went  down  and  down  the  tan 
gled  path  that  her  homesick  feet  had  worn  to  the 
crag  which  overlooked  the  Cove.  Not  there  !  He 
stood,  himself  enveloped  in  the  mist,  and  gazed 
blankly  into  the  folds  of  the  dun -colored  clouds 
that  with  tumultuous  involutions  surged  above  the 
valley  and  baffled  his  vision.  He  realized  it  with 
a  sinking  heart.  She  was  gone. 

That  afternoon — it  was  close  upon  nightfall — 
Stephen  Quimbey,  letting  down  the  bars  for  the 
cows,  noticed  through  the  slanting  lines  of  rain, 
serried  against  the  masses  of  sober -hued  vapors 
which  hid  the  great  mountain  towering  above  the 
Cove,  a  woman  crossing  the  foot-bridge.  He 
turned  and  lifted  down  another  bar,  and  then 
looked  again.  Something  was  familiar  in  her  as 
pect,  certainly.  He  stood  gravely  staring.  Her 
sun-bonnet  had  fallen  back  upon  her  shoulders, 
and  was  hanging  loosely  there  by  the  strings  tied 
beneath  her  chin  ;  her  brown  hair,  dishevelled  by 
the  storm,  tossed  back  and  forth  in  heavy  wave- 
less  locks,  wet  through  and  through.  When  the 
wind  freshened  they  lashed,  thong-like,  her  pallid 
oval  face ;  more  than  once  she  put  up  her  hand 
and  tried  to  gather  them  together,  or  to  press  them 
back — only  one  hand,  for  she  clasped  a  heavy  bun 
dle  in  her  arms,  and  as  she  toiled  along  slowly  up 
the  rocky  slope,  Stephen  suddenly  held  his  palm 
above  his  eyes.  The  recognition  was  becoming 


94  HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT" 

definite,  and  yet  he  could  scarcely  believe  his 
senses:  was  it  indeed  Evelina,  wind-tossed,  tempest- 
beaten,  and  with  as  many  tears  as  rain-drops  on  her 
pale  cheek  ?  Evelina,  forlorn  and  sorry,  and  with 
swollen  sad  dark  eyes,  and  listless  exhausted  step 
— here  again  at  the  bars,  where  she  had  not  stood 
since  she  dragged  her  wounded  lover  thence  on 
that  eventful  night  two  years  and  more  ago. 

Resentment  for  the  domestic  treachery  was  up 
permost  in  his  mind,  and  he  demanded  surlily, 
when  she  had  advanced  within  the  sound  of  his 
words,  "  What  hev  ye  kem  hyar  fur  ?" 

"  Ter  stay,"  she  responded,  briefly. 

His  hand  in  an  uncertain  gesture  laid  hold  upon 
his  tuft  of  beard. 

"  Fur  good  ?"  he  faltered,  amazed. 

She  nodded  silently. 

He  stooped  to  lift  down  the  lowest  bar  that  she 
might  pass.  Suddenly  the  bundle  she  clasped 
gave  a  dexterous  twist ;  a  small  head,  with  yellow 
downy  hair,  was  thrust  forth  ;  a  pair  of  fawn-like 
eyes  fixed  an  inquiring  stare  upon  him  ;  the  pink 
face  distended  with  a  grin,  to  which  the  two  small 
teeth  in  the  red  mouth,  otherwise  empty,  lent  a 
singularly  merry  expression ;  and  with  a  manner 
that  was  a  challenge  to  pursuit,  the  head  disappeared 
as  suddenly  as  it  had  appeared,  tucked  with  af 
fected  shyness  under  Evelina's  arm. 

She  left  Stephen  standing  with  the  bar  in  his 
hand,  staring  blankly  after  her,  and  ran  into  the 
cabin. 

Her  father  had  no  questions  to  ask — nor  she. 

As  he  caught  her  in  his  arms  he  gave  a  great 


HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT"  95 

cry  of  joy  that  rang  through  the  house,  and  brought 
Timothy  from  the  barn,  in  astonishment,  to  the 
scene. 

"  Eveliny's  home!"  he  cried  out  to  Tim,  who,  with 
the  ox-yoke  in  his  hand,  paused  in  the  doorway. 
"  Kem  ter  stay  !  Eveliny's  home  !  I  knowed  she'd 
kem  back  to  her  old  daddy.  Eveliny's  kem  ter 
stay  fur  good." 

"They  tole  me  they'd  hectored  ye  plumb  out'n 
the  town  an'  out'n  yer  office.  They  hed  the  in 
surance  ter  tell  me  that  word  !"  she  cried,  sobbing 
on  his  breast. 

"  What  d'ye  reckon  I  keer  fur  enny  jestice's 
cheer  when  I  hev  got  ye  agin  ter  set  alongside  o' 
me  by  the  fire  ?"  he  exclaimed,  his  cracked  old 
voice  shrill  with  triumphant  gladness. 

He  pushed  her  into  her  rocking-chair  in  the 
chimney-corner,  and  laughed  again  with  the  su 
preme  pleasure  of  the  moment,  although  she  had 
leaned  her  head  against  the  logs  of  the  wall,  and 
was  sobbing  aloud  with  the  contending  emotions 
that  tore  her  heart. 

"Didn't  ye  ever  want  ter  kem  afore,  Eveliny  ?" 
he  demanded.  "  I  hev  been  a-pinin'  fur  a  glimge 
o'  ye."  He  was  in  his  own  place  now,  his  hands 
trembling  as  they  lay  on  the  arms  of  his  chair  ,  a 
pathetic  reproach  was  in  his  voice.  "  Though  old 
folks  oughtn't  ter  expec'  too  much  o'  young  ones,  ez 
be  all  tuk  up  naterally  with  tharse'fs,"  he  added, 
bravely.  He  would  not  let  his  past  lonely  griefs  mar 
the  bright  present.  "  Old  folks  air  mos'ly  cumber- 
ers — mos'ly  cumberers  o'  the  yearth,  ennyhow." 

Her  weeping  had  ceased  ;  she  was  looking  at  him 


96  HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT" 

with  dismayed  surprise  in  her  eyes,  still  lustrous 
with  unshed  tears.  "  Why,  dad  I  sent  ye  a  hun 
dred  messages  ef  I  mought  kern.  I  tole  Abs'lom 
ter  tell  Joe  Boyd — bein'  as  ye  liked  Joe — I  wanted 
ter  see  ye."  She  leaned  forward  and  looked  up  at 
him  with  frowning  intensity.  "They  never  gin  ye 
that  word  ?" 

He  laughed  aloud  in  sorry  scorn.  "  We  can't 
teach  our  chil'n  nuthin',"  he  philosophized.  "They 
hev  got  ter  hurt  tharse'fs  with  all  the  thorns  an'  the 
stings  o'  the  yearth.  Our  sperience  with  the  sharp 
things  an'  bitter  ones  don't  do  them  no  sarvice. 
Naw,  leetle  darter — naw  !  Ye  mought  ez  well  gin 
a  message  o"  kindness  ter  a  wolf,  an1  expec1  him  ter 
kerry  it  ter  some  lonesome,  helpless  thing  a-wounded 
by  the  way-side,  ez  gin  it  ter  a  Kittredge." 

"  I  never  will  speak  ter  one  o'  'em  agin  ez  long 
ez  I  live,"  she  cried,  with  a  fresh  gust  of  tears. 

"  Waal,"  exclaimed  the  old  man,  reassuringly,  and 
chirping  high,  "  hyar  we  all  be  agin,  jes'  the  same 
ez  we  war  afore.  Don't  cry,  Eveliny ;  it's  jes'  the 
same." 

A  sudden  babbling  intruded  upon  the  conversa 
tion.  The  youthful  Kittredge,  as  he  sat  upon  the 
wide  flat  stones  of  the  hearth,  was  as  unwelcome 
here  in  the  Cove  as  a  Quimbey  had  been  in  the 
cabin  on  the  mountain.  The  great  hickory  fire 
called  for  his  unmixed  approval,  coming  in,  as  he 
had  done,  from  the  gray  wet  day.  He  shuffled  his 
bare  pink  feet — exceedingly  elastic  and  agile  mem 
bers  they  seemed  to  be,  and  he  had  a  remarkable 
"purchase"  upon  their  use  —  and  brought  them 
smartly  down  upon  their  heels  as  if  this  were  one 


HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT"  97 

of  the  accepted  gestures  of  applause.  Then  he 
looked  up  at  the  dark  frowning  faces  of  his  moth 
er's  brothers,  and  gurgled  with  laughter,  showing 
the  fascinating  spectacle  of  his  two  front  teeth. 
Perhaps  it  was  the  only  Kittredge  eye  that  they 
were  not  willing  to  meet.  They  solemnly  gazed 
beyond  him  and  into  the  fire,  ignoring  his  very  ex 
istence.  He  sustained  the  slight  with  an  admira 
ble  cheerfulness,  and  babbled  and  sputtered  and 
flounced  about  with  his  hands.  He  grew  pinker  in 
the  generous  firelight,  and  he  looked  very  fat  as  he 
sat  in  a  heap  on  the  floor.  He  seemed  to  have 
threads  tightly  tied  about  his  bolster-shaped  limbs 
in  places  where  elder  people  prefer  joints  —  in  his 
ankles  and  wrists  and  elbows — for  his  arms  were 
bare,  and  although  his  frock  of  pink  calico  hung 
decorously  high  on  one  shoulder,  it  drooped  quite 
off  from  the  other,  showing  a  sturdy  chest. 

His  mother  took  slight  notice  of  him  ;  she  was 
beginning  to  look  about  the  room  with  a  certain 
critical  disfavor  at  the  different  arrangement  of  the 
household  furniture  adopted  by  her  father's  deaf  and 
widowed  old  sister  who  presided  here  now,  and  who, 
it  chanced,  had  been  called  away  by  the  illness  of 
a  relative.  Evelina  got  up  presently,  and  shifted 
the  position  of  the  spinning-wheels,  placing  the  flax- 
wheel  where  the  large  wheel  had  been.  She  then 
pushed  out  the  table  from  the  corner.  "  What  ailed 
her  ter  sot  it  hyar  ?"  she  grumbled,  in  a  disaffected 
undertone,  and  shoved  it  to  the  centre  of  the  floor, 
where  it  had  always  stood  during  her  own  sway. 
She  cast  a  discerning  glance  up  among  the  strings 
of  herbs  and  peppers  hanging  from  above,  and  ex- 


98  HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT"  x 

amined  the  shelves  where  the  simple  stores  for  table 
use  were  arranged  in  earthen-ware  bowls  or  gourds 
—  all  with  an  air  of  vague  dissatisfaction.  She 
presently  stepped  into  the  shed -room,  and  there 
looked  over  the  piles  of  quilts.  They  were  in 
order,  certainly,  but  placed  in  a  different  method 
from  her  own ;  another  woman's  hand  had  been  at 
work,  and  she  was  jealous  of  its  very  touch  among 
these  familiar  old  things  to  which  she  seemed  posi 
tively  akin.  "  I  wonder  how  I  made  out  ter  bide 
so  long  on  the  mounting,"  she  said ;  and  with  the 
recollection  of  the  long-haired  Absalom  there  was 
another  gush  of  tears  and  sobs,  which  she  stifled  as 
she  could  in  one  of  the  old  quilts  that  held  many 
of  her  own  stitches  and  was  soothing  to  touch. 

The  infantile  Kittredge,  who  was  evidently  not 
born  to  blush  unseen,  seemed  to  realize  that  he  had 
failed  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  three  absorbed 
Quimbeys  who  sat  about  the  fire.  He  blithely  ad 
dressed  himself  to  another  effort.  He  suddenly 
whisked  himself  over  on  all-fours,  and  with  a  cer 
tain  ursine  aspect  went  nimbly  across  the  hearth, 
still  holding  up  his  downy  yellow  head,  his  pink 
face  agrin,  and  alluringly  displaying  his  two  face 
tious  teeth.  He  caught  the  rung  of  Tim's  chair, 
and  lifted  himself  tremulously  to  an  upright  post 
ure.  And  then  it  became  evident  that  he  was 
about  to  give  an  exhibition  of  the  thrilling  feat  of 
walking  around  a  chair.  With  a  truly  Kittredge 
perversity  he  had  selected  the  one  that  had  the 
savage  Timothy  seated  in  it.  For  an  instant  the 
dark  -  browed  face  scowled  down  into  his  unaf- 
frighted  eyes  :  it  seemed  as  if  Tim  might  kick  him 


HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT"  99 

into  the  fire.  The  next  moment  he  had  set  out  to 
circumnavigate,  as  it  were.  What  a  prodigious 
force  he  expended  upon  it !  How  he  gurgled  and 
grinned  and  twisted  his  head  to  observe  the  effect 
upon  the  men,  all  sedulously  gazing  into  the  fire  ! 
how  he  bounced,  and  anon  how  he  sank  with  sud 
den  genuflections  !  how  limber  his  feet  seemed,  and 
what  free  agents  !  Surely  he  never  intended  to  put 
them  down  at  that  extravagant  angle.  More  than 
once  one  foot  was  placed  on  top  of  the  other — an 
attitude  that  impeded  locomotion  and  resulted  in 
his  sitting  down  in  an  involuntary  manner  and 
with  some  emphasis.  With  an  appalling  temerity 
he  clutched  Tim's  great  miry  boots  to  help  him  up 
and  on  his  way  round.  Occasionally  he  swayed 
to  and  fro,  with  his  teeth  on  exhibition,  laughing 
and  babbling  and  shrilly  exclaiming,  inarticulately 
bragging  of  his  agile  prowess,  as  if  he  were  able  to 
defy  all  the  Quimbeys,  who  would  not  notice  him. 
And  when  it  was  all  over  he  went  in  his  wriggling 
ursine  gait  back  to  the  hearth-stone,  and  there  he 
was  sitting,  demurely  enough,  and  as  if  he  had 
never  moved,  when  his  mother  returned  and  found 
him. 

There  was  no  indication  that  he  had  attracted  a 
moment's  attention.  She  looked  gravely  down  at 
him  ;  then  took  her  chair.  A  pair  of  blue  yarn 
socks  was  in  her  hand.  "  I  never  see  sech  darnin' 
ez  Aunt  Sairy  Ann  do  fur  ye,  dad ;  I  hev  jes  tuk 
my  shears  an'  cut  this  heel  smang  out,  an'  I  be 
goin'  ter  do  it  over." 

She  slipped  a  tiny  gourd  into  the  heel,  and  began 
to  draw  the  slow  threads  to  and  fro  across  it. 


100  HIS    "DAY    IN    COURT" 

The  blaze,  red  and  yellow,  and  with  elusive  pur 
ple  gleams,  leaped  up  the  chimney.  The  sap  was 
still  in  the  wood  ;  it  sang  a  summer-tide  song.  But 
an  autumn  wind  was  blowing  shrilly  down  the 
chimney ;  one  could  hear  the  sibilant  rush  of  the 
dead  leaves  on  the  blast.  The  window  and  the 
door  shook,  and  were  still,  and  once  more  rattled 
as  if  a  hand  were  on  the  latch. 

Suddenly — "  Ever  weigh  him  ?"  her  father  asked. 

She  sat  upright  with  a  nervous  start.  It  was  a 
moment  before  she  understood  that  it  was  of  the 
Kittredge  scion  he  spoke. 

With  his  high  cracked  laugh  the  old  man  leaned 
over,  his  outspread  hand  hovering  about  the  plump 
baby,  uncertain  where,  in  so  much  soft-  fatness,  it 
might  be  practicable  to  clutch  him.  There  were 
some  large  horn  buttons  on  the  back  of  his  frock,  a 
half-dozen  of  which,  gathered  together,  afforded  a 
grasp.  He  lifted  the  child  by  them,  laughing  in 
undisguised  pleasure  to  feel  the  substantial  strain 
upon  the  garment. 

"  Toler'ble  survigrus,"  he  declared,  with  his  high 
chirp. 

His  daughter  suddenly  sprang  up  with  a  pallid 
face  and  a  pointing  hand. 

"  The  winder  !"  she  huskily  cried — "  suthin's  at 
the  winder !" 

But  when  they  looked  they  saw  only  the  dark 
square  of  tiny  panes,  with  the  fireside  scene  genially 
reflected  on  it.  And  then  she  fell  to  declaring  that 
she  had  been  dreaming,  and  besought  them  not  to 
take  down  their  guns  nor  to  search,  and  would  not 
be  still  until  they  had  all  seemed  to  concede  the 


HIS    "DAY    IN    COURT  IOI 

point ;  it  was  she  who  fastened  the  doors  and  shut 
ters,  and  she  did  not  lie  down  to  rest  till  they  were 
all  asleep  and  hours  had  passed.  None  of  them 
doubted  that  it  was  Absalom's  face  that  she  had 
seen  at  the  window,  where  the  light  had  once  lured 
him  before,  and  she  knew  that  she  had  dreamed  no 
dream  like  this. 

It  soon  became  evident  that  whenever  Joe  Boyd 
was  intrusted  with  a  message  he  would  find  means 
to  deliver  it.  For  upon  him  presently  devolved 
the  difficult  duties  of  ambassador.  The  first  time 
that  his  honest  square  face  appeared  at  the  rail 
fence,  and  the  sound  of  his  voice  roused  Evelina 
as  she  stood  feeding  the  poultry  close  by,  she  re 
turned  his  question  with  a  counter-question  hard 
to  answer. 

"  I  hev  been  up  the  mounting,"  he  said,  smiling, 
as  he  hooked  his  arms  over  the  rail  fence.  "  Abs'- 
lom  he  say  he  wanter  know  when  ye'll  git  yer  visit 
out  an'  kem  home." 

She  leaned  her  elbow  against  the  ash-hopper,  bal 
ancing  the  wooden  bowl  of  corn-meal  batter  on  its 
edge  and  trembling  a  little  ;  the  geese  and  chickens 
and  turkeys  crowded,  a  noisy  rout,  about  her  feet. 

"Joe,"  she  said,  irrelevantly,  "ye  air  one  o'  the 
few  men  on  this  yearth  ez  ain't  a  liar." 

He  stared  at  her  gravely  for  a  moment,  then 
burst  into  a  forced  laugh.  "  Ho !  ho !  I  tell  a 
bushel  o1  'em  a  day,  Eveliny  !"  He  wagged  his 
head  in  an  anxious  affectation  of  mirth. 

"  Why'n't  ye  gin  dad  them  messages  ez  Abs'lom 
gin  ye  from  me  ?" 


102  HIS    "DAY    IN    COURT" 

Joe  received  this  in  blank  amaze  ;  then,  with  sud 
den  comprehension,  his  lower  jaw  dropped.  He 
looked  at  her  with  a  plea  for  pity  in  his  eyes.  And 
yet  his  ready  tact  strove  to  reassert  itself. 

"  I  mus'  hev  furgot  'em,"  he  faltered. 

"  Did  Abs'lom  ever  gin  'em  ter  ye  ?"  she  per 
sisted. 

"  Efhe  did,  I  mus'  hev  furgot  'em,"  he  repeated, 
crestfallen  and  hopeless. 

She  laughed  and  turned  jauntily  away,  once  more 
throwing  the  corn-meal  batter  to  the  greedily  jost 
ling  poultry.  "Tell  Abs'lom  I  hev  fund  him  out," 
she  said.  "  He  can't  sot  me  agin  dad  no  sech  way. 
This  be  my  home,  an'  hyar  I  be  goin'  ter  'bide." 

And  so  she  left  the  good  Joe  Boyd  hooked  on  by 
the  elbows  to  the  fence. 

The  Quimbeys,  who  had  heard  this  conversation 
from  within,  derived  from  it  no  small  elation.  "  She 
hev  gin  'em  the  go-by  fur  good,"  Timothy  said, 
confidently,  to  his  father,  who  laughed  in  triumph, 
and  pulled  calmly  at  his  pipe,  and  looked  ten  years 
younger. 

But  Steve  was  surlily  anxious.  "  I'd  place  heap 
mo'  dependence  in  Eveliny  ef  she  didn't  hev  this 
hyar  way  o'  cryin'  all  the  time.  She  'lows  she's  glad 
she  kem — so  glad  she  hev  lef  Abs'lom  fur  good  an' 
all — an'  then  she  busts  out  a-cryin'  agin.  I  ain't 
able  ter  argufy  on  sech." 

"Shucks!  wimmen  air  al  \vays  a-cryin',  an'  they 
don't  mean  nuthiff  by  it,"  exclaimed  the  old  man, 
in  the  plenitude  of  his  wisdom.  "  It  air  jes'  one 
o'  thar  most  contrarious  ways.  I  hev  seen  'em  set 
down  an'  cry  fur  joy  an'  pleasure." 


HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT"  103 

But  Steve  was  doubtful.  "  It  be  a  powerful  low- 
sperited  gift  fur  them  ez  hev  ter  'bide  along  of  'em. 
Eveliny  never  useter  be  tearful  in  nowise.  Now 
she  cries  a  heap  mo'  'n  that  thar  shoat "  —  his 
lips  curled  in  contempt  as  he  glanced  toward  the 
door,  through  which  was  visible  a  small  rotund  fig 
ure  in  pink  calico,  seated  upon  the  lowest  log  of 
the  wood  -  pile  —  "  ez  she  fotched  down  hyar  with 
her.  He  never  hev  hed  a  reg'lar  blate  but  two  or 
three  times  sence  he  hev  been  hyar,  an'  them  war 
when  that  thar  old  tur-rkey  gobbler  teetered  up  ter 
him  an'  tuk  his  corn-dodger  that  he  war  a-eatin'  on 
plumb  out'n  his  hand.  He  hed  suthin'  to  holler  fur 
—hed  los'  his  breakfus." 

"  Don't  he  'pear  ter  you-uns  to  be  powerful  peeg- 
eon-toed  ?"  asked  Tim,  anxiously,  turning  to  his 
father. 

"  The  gawbbler  ?"  faltered  the  amazed  old  man. 

"  Naw  ;  him,  him — Kittredge"  said  Tim,  jerking 
his  big  thumb  in  the  direction  of  the  small  boy. 

"Law-dy  Gawd  A'mighty  !  naw  !  naw!"  The 
grandfather  indignantly  repudiated  the  imputation 
of  the  infirmity.  One  would  have  imagined  that 
he  would  deem  it  meet  that  a  Kittredge  should  be 
pigeon-toed.  "  It's  jes  the  way  all  babies  hev  got 
a-walkin' ;  he  ain't  right  handy  yit  with  his  feet — 
jes  a-beginnin'  ter  walk,  an'  sech.  Peegeon-toed  ! 
I  say  it,  ye  fool !"  He  cast  a  glance  of  contempt 
on  his  eldest-born,  and  arrogantly  puffed  his  pipe. 

Again  Joe  Boyd  came,  and  yet  again.  He 
brought  messages  contrite  and  promissory  from 
Absalom ;  he  brought  commands  stern  and  insist 
ent.  He  came  into  the  house  at  last,  and  sat  and 


104  HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT" 

talked  at  the  fireside  in  the  presence  of  the  men 
of  the  family,  who  bore  themselves  in  a  manner 
calculated  to  impress  the  Kittredge  emissary  with 
their  triumph  and  contempt  for  his  mission,  al 
though  they  studiously  kept  silence,  leaving  it  to 
Evelina  to  answer. 

At  last  the  old  man,  leaning  forward,  tapped  Joe 
on  the  knee.  "  See  hyar,  Joe.  Ye  hev  always 
been  a  good  frien'  o'  mine.  This  hyar  man  he 
stole  my  darter  from  me,  an'  whenst  she  wanted  ter 
be  frien's,  an'  not  let  her  old  dad  die  unforgivin1, 
he  wouldn't  let  her  send  the  word  ter  me.  An' 
then  he  sot  himself  ter  spite  an'  hector  me,  an' 
fairly  run  me  out'n  the  town,  an'  harried  me  out'n 
my  office,  an' when  she  fund  out  —  she  wouldn't 
take  my  word  fur  it  —  the  deceivin'  natur'  o'  the 
Kittredge  tribe,  she  hed  hed  enough  o'  'em.  I  hev 
let  ye  argufy  'bout'n  it;  ye  hev  hed  yer  fill  of  words. 
An'  now  I  be  tired  out.  Ye  ain't  'lowin'  she'll  ever 
go  back  ter  her  husband,  air  ye  ?" 

Joe  dolorously  shook  his  head. 

"  Waal,  ef  ever  ye  kem  hyar  talkin'  'bout'n  it 
agin,  I'll  be  'bleeged  ter  take  down  my  rifle  ter  ye." 

Joe  gazed,  unmoved,  into  the  fire. 

"An'  that  would  be  mighty  hard  on  me,  Joe, 
'kase  ye  be  so  pop'lar  'mongst  all,  I  dunno  what 
the  kentry  -  side  would  do  ter  me  ef  I  war  ter 
put  a  bullet  inter  ye.  Ye  air  a  young  man,  Joe. 
Ye  oughter  spare  a  old  man  sech  a  danger  ez 
that." 

And  so  it  happened  that  Joe  Boyd's  offices  as 
mediator  ceased. 

A  week  went  by  in  silence  and  without  result. 


HIS    "DAY    IN    COURT"  10$ 

Evelina's  tears  seemed  to  keep  count  of  the  min 
utes.  The  brothers  indignantly  noted  it,  and  even 
the  old  man  was  roused  from  the  placid  securities 
of  his  theories  concerning  lachrymose  womankind, 
and  remonstrated  sometimes,  and  sometimes  grew 
angry  and  exhorted  her  to  go  back.  What  did  it 
matter  to  her  how  her  father  was  treated  ?  He 
was  a  cumberer  of  the  ground,  and  many  people 
besides  her  husband  had  thought  he  had  no  right 
to  sit  in  a  justice's  chair.  And  then  she  would 
burst  into  tears  once  more,  and  declare  again  that 
she  would  never  go  back. 

The  only  thoroughly  cheerful  soul  about  the 
place  was  the  intruding  Kittredge.  He  sat  con 
tinuously — for  the  weather  was  fine — on  the  lowest 
log  of  the  wood-pile,  and  swung  his  bare  pink  feet 
among  the  chips  and  bark,  and  seemed  to  have 
given  up  all  ambition  to  walk.  Occasionally  red 
and  yellow  leaves  whisked  past  his  astonished  eyes, 
although  these  were  few  now,  for  November  was  on 
the  wane.  He  babbled  to  the  chickens,  who  pecked 
about  him  with  as  much  indifference  as  if  he  were 
made  of  wood.  His  two  teeth  came  glittering  out 
whenever  the  rooster  crowed,  and  his  gleeful  laugh 
— he  rejoiced  so  in  this  handsomely  endowed  bird 
• — could  be  heard  to  the  barn.  The  dogs  seemed 
never  to  have  known  that  he  was  a  Kittredge,  and 
wagged  their  tails  at  the  very  sound  of  his  voice, 
and  seized  surreptitious  opportunities  to  lick  his 
face.  Of  all  his  underfoot  world  only  the  gobbler 
awed  him  into  gravity  and  silence ;  he  would  gaze 
in  dismay  as  the  marauding  fowl  irresolutely  ap 
proached  from  around  the  wood  -  pile,  with  long 


106  HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT" 

neck  out  -  stretched  and  undulating  gait,  applying 
first  one  eye  and  then  the  other  to  the  pink  hands, 
for  the  gobbler  seemed  to  consider  them  a  per 
petual  repository  of  corn  -  dodgers,  which  indeed 
they  were.  Then  the  head  and  the  wabbling  red 
wattles  would  dart  forth  with  a  sudden  peck,  and 
the  shriek  that  ensued  proved  that  nothing  could 
be  much  amiss  with  the  Kittredge  lungs. 

One  fine  day  he  sat  thus  in  the  red  November 
sunset.  The  sky,  seen  through  the  interlacing 
black  boughs  above  his  head,  was  all  amber  and 
crimson,  save  for  a  wide  space  of  pure  and  pallid 
green,  against  which  the  purplish -garnet  wintry 
mountains  darkly  gloomed.  Beyond  the  rail  fence 
the  avenues  of  the  bare  woods  were  carpeted  with 
the  sere  yellowish  leaves  that  gave  back  the  sun 
light  with  a  responsive  illuminating  effect,  and  thus 
the  sylvan  vistas  glowed.  The  long  slanting  beams 
elongated  his  squatty  little  shadow  till  it  was  hard 
ly  a  caricature.  He  heard  the  cow  lowing  as  she 
came  to  be  milked,  fording  the  river  where  the 
clouds  were  so  splendidly  reflected.  The  chickens 
were  going  to  roost.  The  odor  of  the  wood,  the 
newly -hewn  chips,  imparted  a  fresh  and  fragrant 
aroma  to  the  air.  He  had  found  among  them  a 
sweet-gum  ball  and  a  pine  cone,  and  was  applying 
them  to  the  invariable  test  of  taste.  Suddenly  he 
dropped  them  with  a  nervous  start,  his  lips  trem 
bled,  his  lower  jaw  fell,  he  was  aware  of  a  stealthy 
approach.  Something  was  creeping  behind  the 
wood-pile.  He  hardly  had  time  to  bethink  himself 
of  his  enemy  the  gobbler  when  he  was  clutched 
under  the  arm,  swung  through  the  air  with  a  swift- 


HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT"  107 

ness  that  caused  the  scream  to  evaporate  in  his 
throat,  and  the  next  moment  he  looked  quakingly 
up  into  his  father's  face  with  unrecognizing  eyes ; 
for  he  had  forgotten  Absalom  in  these  few  weeks. 
He  squirmed  and  wriggled  as  he  was  held  on  the 
pommel  of  the  saddle,  winking  and  catching  his 
breath  and  spluttering,  as  preliminary  proceedings 
to  an  outcry.  There  was  a  sudden  sound  of  heav 
ily  shod  feet  running  across  the  puncheon  floor 
within,  a  wild,  incoherent  exclamation  smote  the 
air,  an  interval  of  significant  silence  ensued. 

"  Get  up !"  cried  Absalom,  not  waiting  for  Tim's 
rifle,  but  spurring  the  young  horse,  and  putting 
him  at  the  fence.  The  animal  rose  with  the  elas 
ticity  and  lightness  of  an  uprearing  ocean  wave. 
The  baby  once  more  twisted  his  soft  neck,  and 
looked  anxiously  into  the  rider's  face.  This  was 
not  the  gobbler.  The  gobbler  did  not  ride  horse 
back.  Then  the  affinity  of  the  male  infant  for  the 
noble  equine  animal  suddenly  overbore  all  else. 
In  elation  he  smote  with  his  soft  pink  hand  the 
glossy  arched  neck  before  him.  "  Dul-lup  !"  he 
arrogantly  echoed  Absalom's  words.  And  thus 
father  and  son  at  a  single  bound  disappeared  into 
woods,  and  so  out  of  sight. 

The  savage  Tim  was  leaning  upon  his  rifle  in 
the  doorway,  his  eyes  dilated,  his  breath  short,  his 
whole  frame  trembling  with  excitement,  as  the 
other  men,  alarmed  by  Evelina's  screams,  rushed 
down  from  the  barn. 

"  What  ails  ye,  Tim  ?  Why  Vt  ye  fire  ?"  de 
manded  his  father. 


IO8  HIS   "  DAY    IN    COURT  " 

Tim  turned  an  agitated,  baffled  look  upon  him. 
"I — I  mought  hev  hit  the  baby,"  he  faltered. 

"Hain't  ye  got  no  aim,  ye  durned  sinner  ?"  asked 
Stephen,  furiously. 

"  Bullet  mought  hev  gone  through  him  and  struck 
inter  the  baby,"  expostulated  Tim. 

"  An'  then  agin  it  moughtn't  !"  cried  Stephen. 
"  Lawd,  ef  /  hed  hed  the  chance  !" 

"Ye  wouldn't  hev  done  no  differ,"  declared  Tim. 

"  Hyar !"  Steve  caught  his  brother's  gun  and 
presented  it  to  Tim's  lips.  "  Suck  the  bar'l.  It's 
'bout  all  ye  air  good  fur." 

The  horses  had  been  turned  out.  By  the  time 
they  were  caught  and  saddled  pursuit  was  evidently 
hopeless.  The  men  strode  in  one  by  one,  dashing 
the  saddles  and  bridles  on  the  floor,  and  finding  in 
angry  expletives  a  vent  for  their  grief.  And  indeed 
it  might  have  seemed  that  the  Quimbeys  must  have 
long  sought  a  choice  Kittredge  infant  for  adop 
tion,  so  far  did  their  bewailings  discount  Rachel's 
mourning. 

"  Don't  cry,  Eveliny,"  they  said,  ever  and  anon. 
"  We-uns  '11  git  him  back  fur  ye." 

But  she  had  not  shed  a  tear.  She  sat  speech 
less,  motionless,  as  if  turned  to  stone. 

"  Laws  -  a-  massy,  child,  ef  ye  would  jes  hev 
b'lieved  me  'bout'n  them  Kittredges — Abs'lom  in 
partic'lar  —  ye'd  be  happy  an'  free  now,"  said  the 
old  man,  his  imagination  somewhat  extending  his 
experience,  for  he  had  had  no  knowledge  of  his 
son-in-law  until  their  relationship  began. 

The  evening  wore  drearily  on.  Now  and  then 
the  men  roused  themselves,  and  with  lowering 


HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT"  109 

faces  discussed  the  opportunities  of  reprisal,  and 
the  best  means  of  rescuing  the  child.  And  whether 
they  schemed  to  burn  the  Kittredge  cabin,  or  to 
arm  themselves,  burst  in  upon  their  enemies,  shoot 
ing  and  killing  all  who  resisted,  Evelina  said  noth 
ing,  but  stared  into  the  fire  with  unnaturally  dilated 
eyes,  her  white  lined  face  all  drawn  and  somehow 
unrecognizable. 

"  Never  mind,"  her  father  said  at  intervals,  taking 
her  cold  hand,  "  we-uns  ?11  git  him  back,  Eveliny. 
The  Lord  hed  a  mother  wunst,  an'  I'll  be  bound 
He  keeps  a  special  pity  for  a  woman  an'  her 
child." 

"  Oh,  great  gosh  !  who'd  hev  dreamt  we'd  hev 
missed  him  so !"  cried  Tim,  shifting  his  position, 
and  slipping  his  left  arm  over  the  back  of  his  chair. 
"  Jes  ter  think  o'  the  leetle  size  o'  him,  an'  the 
great  big  gap  he  hev  lef  roun'  this  hyar  ha'th- 
stone !" 

"  An'  yit  he  jes  sot  underfoot,  'mongst  the  cat 
an'  the  dogs,  jes  ez  humble  !"  said  Stephen. 

"  I'd  git  him  back  even  ef  he  warn't  no  kin  ter 
me,  Eveliny,"  declared  Tim,  and  he  spoke  advisedly, 
remembering  that  the  youth  was  a  Kittredge. 

Still  Evelina  said  not  a  word.  All  that  night 
she  silently  walked  the  puncheon  floor,  while  the 
rest  of  the  household  slept.  The  dogs,  in  vague 
disturbance,  because  of  the  unprecedented  vigil 
and  stir  in  the  midnight,  wheezed  uneasily  from 
time  to  time,  and  crept  restlessly  about  under  the 
cabin,  now  and  again  thumping  their  backs  or 
heads  against  the  floor ;  but  at  last  they  betook 
themselves  to  slumber.  The  hickory  logs  broke  in 


112  HIS   "DAY    IN   COURT" 

rose  trembling  to  her  feet,  and  her  lips  parted  as  if 
to  cry  out.  They  emitted  no  sound,  and  she  turned 
with  a  terrified  fascination  and  looked  back.  The 
shutter  had  opened ,  there  was  no  glass  ,  the  small 
square  of  the  window  showed  the  nebulous  gray 
mist  without,  and  defined  upon  it  was  Evelina's 
head,  her  dark  hair  streaming  over  the  red  shawl 
held  about  it,  her  fair  oval  face  pallid  and  pensive, 
and  with  a  great  wistfulness  upon  it ;  her  lustrous 
dark  eyes  glittered. 

"  Mother,"  her  red  lips  quivered  out. 

The  old  crone  recognized  no  treachery  in  her 
heart.  She  laid  a  warning  finger  upon  her  lips. 
All  the  men  were  asleep. 

Evelina  stretched  out  her  yearning  arms.  "  Gin 
him  ter  me  !" 

"  Naw,  naw,  Eveliny,"  huskily  whispered  Absa 
lom's  mother.  "  Ye  oughter  kem  hyar  an'  'bide 
with  yer  husband — ye  know  ye  ought." 

Evelina  still  held  out  her  insistent  arms.  "Gin 
him  ter  me  !"  she  pleaded. 

The  old  woman  shook  her  head  sternly.  "  Ye 
kem  in,  an'  'bide  whar  ye  b'long." 

Evelina  took  a  step  nearer  the  window.  She 
laid  her  hand  on  the  sill.  "  Spos'n  'twar  Abs'lom 
whenst  he  war  a  baby,"  she  said,  her  eyes  softly 
brightening,  "  an'  another  woman  hed  him  an'  kep' 
him,  'kase  ye  an'  his  dad  fell  out — would  ye  hev 
'lowed  she  war  right  ter  treat  ye  like  ye  treat  me — 
whenst  Abs'lom  war  a  baby  ?" 

Once  more  she  held  out  her  arms. 

There  was  a  step  in  the  inner  shed-room ;  then 
silence. 


HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT"  113 

"  Ye  hain't  got  no  excuse,"  the  soft  voice  urged; 
"  ye  know  jes  how  I  feel,  how  ye'd  hev  felt,  whenst 
Abs'lom  war  a  baby." 

The  shawl  had  fallen  back  from  her  tender  face ; 
her  eyes  glowed,  her  cheek  was  softly  flushed.  A 
sudden  terror  thrilled  through  her  as  she  again 
heard  the  heavy  step  approaching  in  the  shed-room. 
"  Whenst  Abs'lom  war  a  baby,"  she  reiterated,  her 
whole  pleading  heart  in  the  tones. 

A  sudden  radiance  seemed  to  illumine  the  sad, 
dun-colored  folds  of  the  encompassing  cloud ;  her 
face  shone  with  a  transfiguring  happiness,  for  the 
hustling  old  crone  had  handed  out  to  her  a  warm, 
somnolent  bundle,  and  the  shutter  closed  upon  the 
mists  with  a  bang. 

"The  wind's  riz  powerful  suddint,"  Peter  said, 
noticing  the  noise  as  he  came  stumbling  in,  rubbing 
his  eyes.  He  went  and  fastened  the  shutter,  while 
his  mother  tremulously  mended  the  fire. 

The  absence  of  the  baby  was  not  noticed  for 
some  time,  and  when  the  father's  hasty  and  angry 
questions  elicited  the  reluctant  facts,  the  outcry  for 
his  loss  was  hardly  less  bitter  among  the  Kittredges 
than  among  the  Quimbeys.  The  fugitives  were 
shielded  from  capture  by  the  enveloping  mist,  and 
when  Absalom  returned  from  the  search  he  could 
do  naught  but  indignantly  upbraid  his  mother. 

She  was  terrified  by  her  own  deed,  and  cowered 
under  Absalom's  wrath.  It  was  in  a  moral  collapse, 
she  felt,  that  she  could  have  done  this  thing.  She 
flung  her  apron  over  her  head,  and  sat  still  and 
silent — a  monumental  figure— among  them.  Once, 
roused  by  Absalom's  reproaches,  she  made  some 


114  HIS    "DAY    IN    COURT" 

effort  to  defend  and  exculpate  herself,  speaking 
from  behind  the  enveloping  apron. 

"  I  ain't  born  no  Kittredge  nohow,"  she  irrele-. 
vantly  asseverated,  "  an'  I  never  war.  An'  when 
Eveliny  axed  me  how  I'd  hev  liked  ter  hev  another 
'oman  take  Abs'lom  whenst  he  war  a  baby,  I  couldn't 
hold  out  no  longer." 

"  Shucks  !"  cried  Absalom,  unfilially ;  "ye'd  a  heap 
better  be  a-studyin'  'bout'n  my  good  now  'n  whenst 
I  war  a  baby — a-givin'  away  my  child  ter  them 
Quimbeys ;  a-h'istin'  him  out'n  the  winder!" 

She  was  glad  to  retort  that  he  was  "  impident," 
and  to  take  refuge  in  an  aggrieved  silence,  as  many 
another  mother  has  done  when  outmatched  by  logic. 

After  this  there  was  more  cheerfulness  in  her  hid 
den  face  than  might  have  been  argued  from  her 
port  of  important  sorrow.  "  Bes'  ter  hev  no  jawin', 
though,"  she  said  to  herself,  as  she  sat  thus  inscrut 
ably  veiled.  And  deep  in  her  repentant  heart  she 
was  contradictorily  glad  that  Evelina  and  the  baby 
were  safe  together  down  in  the  Cove. 

Old  Joel  Quimbey,  putting  on  his  spectacles,  with 
a  look  of  keenest  curiosity,  to  read  a  paper  which 
the  deputy-sheriff  of  the  county  presented  when  he 
drew  rein  by  the  wood -pile  one  afternoon  some 
three  weeks  later,  had  some  difficulty  in  identifying 
a  certain  Elnathan  Daniel  Kittredge  specified  there 
in.  He  took  off  his  spectacles,  rubbed  them  smart 
ly,  and  put  them  on  again.  The  writing  was  un 
changed.  Surely  it  must  mean  the  baby.  That 
was  the  only  Kittredge  whose  body  they  could  be 
summoned  to  produce  on  the  24th  of  December 


HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT"  115 

before  the  judge  of  the  circuit  court,  now  in  session. 
He  turned  the  paper  about  and  looked  at  it,  his 
natural  interest  as  a  man  augmented  by  his  recog 
nition  as  an  ex  -  magistrate  of  its  high  important 
legal  character. 

"Eveliny,"  he  quavered,  at  once  flattered  and 
furious,  "dad -burned  ef  Abs'lom  hain't  gone  an' 
got  out  a  habeas  corpus  fur  the  baby  !" 

The  phrase  had  a  sound  so  deadly  that  there  was 
much  ado  to  satisfactorily  explain  the  writ  and  its 
functions  to  Evelina,  who  had  felt  at  ease  again  since 
the  baby  was  at  home,  and  so  effectually  guarded 
that  to  kidnap  him  was  necessarily  to  murder  two 
or  three  of  the  vigilant  and  stalwart  Quimbey  men. 
So  much  joy  did  it  afford  the  old  man  to  air  his 
learning  and  consult  his  code — a  relic  of  his  justice 
ship — that  he  belittled  the  danger  of  losing  the  said 
Elnathan  Daniel  Kittredge  in  the  interest  with 
which  he  looked  forward  to  the  day  for  him  to  be 
produced  before  the  court. 

There  was  a  gathering  of  the  clans  on  that  day. 
Quimbeys  and  Kittredges  who  had  not  visited  the 
town  for  twenty  years  were  jogging  thither  betimes 
that  morning  on  the  red  clay  roads,  all  unimpeded 
by  the  deep  mud  which,  frozen  into  stiff  ruts  and 
ridges  here  and  there,  made  the  way  hazardous  to 
the  running- gear.  The  lagging  winter  had  come, 
and  the  ground  was  half  covered  with  a  light  fall 
of  snow. 

The  windows  of  the  court-house  were  white  with 
frost ;  the  weighted  doors  clanged  continuously. 
An  old  codger,  slowly  ascending  the  steps,  and 
pushing  into  the  semi-obscurity  of  the  hall,  paused 


Il6  HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT" 

as  the  door  slammed  behind  him,  stared  at  the 
sheriff  in  surprise,  then  fixed  him  with  a  bantering 
leer.  The  light  that  slanted  through  the  open 
court-room  door  fell  upon  the  official's  burly  figure, 
his  long  red  beard,  his  big  broad  -  brimmed  hat 
pushed  back  from  his  laughing  red  face,  conscious 
ly  ludicrous  and  abashed  just  now. 

"  Hev  ye  made  a  find  ?"  demanded  the  new 
comer. 

For  in  the  strong  arms  of  the  law  sat,  bolt- 
upright,  Elnathan  Daniel  Kittredge,  his  yellow 
head  actively  turning  about,  his  face  decorated 
with  a  grin,  and  on  most  congenial  terms  with 
the  sheriff. 

"  They're  lawin'  'bout'n  him  in  thar  " — the  sheriff 
jerked  his  thumb  toward  the  door.  "  Habeas  corpus 
perceedin's.  Dunno  ez  I  ever  see  a  friskier  leetle 
cuss.  Durned  ef  I  'ain't  got  a  good  mind  ter  run 
off  with  him  myself." 

The  said  Elnathan  Daniel  Kittredge  once  more 
squirmed  round  and  settled  himself  comfortably  in 
the  hollow  of  the  sheriff's  elbow,  who  marvelled  to 
find  himself  so  deft  in  holding  him,  for  it  was  twen 
ty  years  since  his  son — a  gawky  youth  who  now 
affected  the  company  at  the  saloon,  and  was  none 
too  filial — was  the  age  and  about  the  build  of  this 
infant  Kittredge. 

"  They  hed  a  reg'lar  scrimmage  hyar  in  the  hall 
— them  fool  men— Quimbey  an'  Kittredge.  Old 
man  Quimbey  said  suthin'  ter  Abs'lom  Kittredge 
— I  dunno  what  all.  Abs'lom  never  jawed  back 
none.  He  jes  made  a  dart  an'  snatched  this  hyar 
leetle  critter  out'n  his  mother's  arms,  stiddier  wait- 


HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT"  117 

in'  fur  the  law,  what  he  summonsed  himself.  Blest 
ef  I  didn't  hev  ter  hold  my  revolver  ter  his  head, 
an'  then  crack  him  over  the  knuckles,  ter  make  him 
let  go  the  child.  I  didn't  want  ter  arrest  him— 
mighty  clever  boy,  Abs'lom  Kittredge!  I  promised 
that  young  woman  I'd  keep  holt  o'  the  child  till  the 
law  gins  its  say-so.  I  feel  sorry  fur  her;  she's  been 
through  a  heap." 

"  Waal,  ye  look  mighty  pritty,  totin'  him  around 
hyar,"  his  friend  encouraged  him  with  a  grin.  "  I'll 
say  that  fur  ye — ye  look  mighty  pritty." 

And  in  fact  the  merriment  in  the  hall  at  the  sher 
iff's  expense  began  to  grow  so  exhilarating  as  to 
make  him  feel  that  the  proceedings  within  were  too 
interesting  to  lose.  His  broad  red  face  with  its  big 
red  beard  reappeared  in  the  doorway — slightly  em 
barrassed  because  of  the  sprightly  manners  of  his 
charge,  who  challenged  to  mirth  every  eye  that 
glanced  at  him  by  his  toothful  grin  and  his  gurgles 
and  bounces  ;  he  was  evidently  enjoying  the  excite 
ment  and  his  conspicuous  position.  He  manfully 
gnawed  at  his  corn-dodger  from  time  to  time,  and 
from  the  manner  in  which  he  fraternized  with  his 
new  acquaintance,  the  sheriff,  he  seemed  old  enough 
to  dispense  with  maternal  care,  and,  but  for  his  in 
complete  methods  of  locomotion,  able  to  knock  about 
town  with  the  boys.  The  Quimbeys  took  note  of 
his  mature  demeanor  with  sinking  hearts ;  they 
looked  anxiously  at  the  judge,  wondering  if  he  had 
ever  before  seen  such  precocity — anything  so  young 
to  be  so  old  :  "  He  'ain't  never  afore  'peared  so 
survigrus  —  so  durned  survigrus  ez  he  do  ter-day," 
they  whispered  to  each  other. 


Il8  HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  his  father  was  saying,  on  examina 
tion,  "year  old.  Eats  anything  he  kin  git — cab 
bage  an'  fat  meat  an'  anything.  Could  walk  if  he 
wanted  ter.  But  he  'ain't  been  raised  right" — he 
glanced  at  his  wife  to  observe  the  effect  of  this 
statement.  He  felt  a  pang  as  he  noted  her  pensive, 
downcast  face,  all  tremulous  and  agitated,  over 
whelmed  as  she  was  by  the  crowd  and  the  infinite 
moment  of  the  decision.  But  Absalom,  too,  had  his 
griefs,  and  they  expressed  themselves  perversely. 

"  He  hev  been  pompered  an'  fattened  by  bein'  let 
ter  eat  an'  sleep  so  much,  till  he  be  so  heavy  ter 
his  self  he  don't  wanter  take  the  trouble  ter  git 
about.  He  could  walk  ennywhar.  He's  plumb 
survigrus." 

And  as  if  in  confirmation,  the  youthful  Kittredge 
lifted  his  voice  to  display  his  lung  power.  He  hila 
riously  babbled,  and  suddenly  roared  out  a  stento 
rian  whoop,  elicited  by  nothing  in  particular,  then 
caught  the  sheriff's  beard,  and  buried  in  it  his  con 
scious  pink  face. 

The  judge  looked  gravely  up  over  his  spectacles. 
He  had  a  bronzed  complexion,  a  serious,  pondering 
expression,  a  bald  head,  and  a  gray  beard.  He  wore 
a  black  broadcloth  suit,  somewhat  old-fashioned  in 
cut,  and  his  black  velvet  waist-coat  had  suffered  an 
eruption  of  tiny  red  satin  spots.  He  had  great  re 
spect  for  judicial  decorums,  and  no  Kittredge,  how 
ever  youthful,  or  survigrus,  or  exalted  in  importance 
by  habeas  corpus  proceedings,  could  "  holler "  un 
molested  where  he  presided. 

"Mr.  Sheriff,"  he  said,  solemnly,  "remove  that 
child  from  the  presence  of  the  court." 


HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT"  119 

And  the  said  Elnathan  Daniel  Kittredge  went 
out  gleefully  kicking  in  the  arms  of  the  law. 

The  hundred  or  so  grinning  faces  in  the  court 
room  relapsed  quickly  into  gravity  and  excited  in 
terest.  The  rows  of  jeans-clad  countrymen  seated 
upon  the  long  benches  on  either  side  of  the  bar 
leaned  forward  with  intent  attitudes.  For  this  was 
a  rich  feast  of  local  gossip,  such  as  had  not  been  so 
bountifully  spread  within  their  recollection.  All 
the  ancient  Quimbey  and  Kittredge  feuds  contrived 
to  be  detailed  anew  in  offering  to  the  judge  reasons 
why  father  or  mother  was  the  more  fit  custodian  of 
the  child  in  litigation. 

As  Absalom  sat  listening  to  all  this,  his  eyes 
were  suddenly  arrested  by  his  wife's  face — half 
draped  it  was,  half  shadowed  by  her  sun -bonnet, 
its  fine  and  delicate  profile  distinctly  outlined 
against  the  crystalline  and  frosted  pane  of  the  win 
dow  near  which  she  sat.  The  snow  without  threw 
a  white  reflection  upon  it ;  its  rich  coloring  in  con 
trast  was  the  more  intense ;  it  was  very  pensive, 
with  the  heavy  lids  drooping  over  the  lustrous  eyes, 
and  with  a  pathetic  appeal  in  its  expression. 

And  suddenly  his  thoughts  wandered  far  afield. 
He  wondered  that  it  had  come  to  this  ;  that  she 
could  have  misunderstood  him  so ;  that  he  had 
thought  her  hard  and  perverse  and  unforgiving. 
His  heart  was  all  at  once  melting  within  him ; 
somehow  he  was  reminded  how  slight  a  thing  she 
was,  and  how  strong  was  the  power  that  nerved  her 
slender  hand  to  drag  his  heavy  weight,  in  his  dead 
and  helpless  unconsciousness,  down  to  the  bars 
and  into  the  safety  of  the  sheltering  laurel  that 


120  HIS    "DAY    IN    COURT" 

night,  when  he  lay  wounded  and  bleeding  under 
the  lighted  window  of  the  cabin  in  the  Cove.  A 
deep  tenderness,  an  irresistible  yearning  had  come 
upon  him  ;  he  was  about  to  rise,  he  was  about  to 
speak  he  knew  not  what,  when  suddenly  her  face 
was  irradiated  as  one  who  sees  a  blessed  vision  ;  a 
happy  light  sprang  into  her  eyes ;  her  lips  curved 
with  a  smile ;  the  quick  tears  dropped  one  by  one 
on  her  hands,  nervously  clasping  and  unclasping 
each  other.  He  was  bewildered  for  a  moment. 
Then  he  heard  Peter  gruffly  growling  a  half-whis 
pered  curse,  and  the  voice  of  the  judge,  in  the  exer 
cise  of  his  discretion,  methodically  droning  out  his 
reasons  for  leaving  so  young  a  child  in  the  custody 
of  its  mother,  disregarding  the  paramount  rights  of 
the  father.  The  judge  concluded  by  dispassionate 
ly  recommending  the  young  couple  to  betake  them 
selves  home,  and  to  try  to  live  in  peace  together,  or, 
at  any  rate,  like  sane  people.  Then  he  thrust  his 
spectacles  up  on  his  forehead,  drew  a  long  sigh  of 
dismissal,  and  said,  with  a  freshened  look  of  inter 
est,  "  Mr.  Clerk,  call  the  next  case." 

The  Quimbey  and  Kittredge  factions  poured  into 
the  hall ;  what  cared  they  for  the  disputed  claims 
of  Jenkins  versus  Jones  ?  The  lovers  of  sensation 
cherished  a  hope  that  there  might  be  a  lawless  ef 
fort  to  rescue  the  infant  Kittredge  from  the  custo 
dy  to  which  he  had  been  committed  by  the  court. 
The  Quimbeys  watchfully  kept  about  him  in  a  close 
squad,  his  pink  sun-bonnet,  in  which  his  head  was 
eclipsed,  visible  among  their  brawny  jeans  shoul 
ders,  as  his  mother  carried  him  in  her  arms.  The 
sheriff  looked  smilingly  after  him  from  the  court- 


HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT"  121 

house  steps,  then  inhaled  a  long  breath,  and  began 
to  roar  out  to  the  icy  air  the  name  of  a  witness 
wanted  within.  Instead  of  a  gate  there  was  a  flight 
of  steps  on  each  side  of  the  fence,  surmounted  by 
a  small  platform.  Evelina  suddenly  shrank  back 
as  she  stood  on  the  platform,  for  beside  the  fence 
Absalom  was  waiting.  Timothy  hastily  vaulted 
over  the  fence,  drew  his  "  shooting-iron  "  from  his 
boot-leg,  and  cocked  it  with  a  metallic  click,  sharp 
and  peremptory  in  the  keen  wintry  air.  For  a  mo 
ment  Absalom  said  not  a  word.  He  looked  up  at 
Evelina,  with  as  much  reproach  as  bitterness  in  his 
dark  eyes.  They  were  bright  with  the  anger  that 
fired  his  blood ;  it  was  hot  in  his  bronzed  cheek ;  it 
quivered  in  his  hands.  The  dry  and  cold  atmos 
phere  amplified  the  graces  of  his  long  curling  yel 
low  hair  that  she  and  his  mother  loved.  His  hat 
was  pushed  back  from  his  face.  He  had  not 
spoken  to  her  since  the  day  of  his  ill-starred  confi 
dence,  but  he  would  not  be  denied  now. 

"Ye'll  repent  it,"  he  said,  threateningly.  "I'll 
take  special  pains  fur  that." 

She  bestowed  on  him  one  defiant  glance,  and 
laughed — a  bitter  little  laugh.  "Ye  air  ekal  ter  it; 
ye  have  a  special  gift  fur  makin'  folks  repent  they 
ever  seen  ye." 

"  The  jedge  jes  gin  him  ter  ye  'kase  ye  made  him 
out  sech  a  fibble  little  pusson,"  he  sneered.  "  But 
it's  jes  fur  a  time." 

She  held  the  baby  closer.  He  busied  himself  in 
taking  off  his  sun-bonnet  and  putting  it  on  hind  part 
before,  gurgling  with  smothered  laughter  to  find 
himself  thus  queerly  masked,  and  he  made  futile 


122  HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT" 

efforts  to  play  "peep -eye"  with  anybody  jovially 
disposed  in  the  crowd.  But  they  were  all  gravely 
absorbed  in  the  conjugal  quarrel  at  which  they 
were  privileged  to  assist. 

"  It's  jes  fur  a  time,"  he  reiterated. 

"  Wait  an'  see  !"  she  retorted,  triumphantly. 

"  I  won't  wait,"  he  declared,  goaded ;  "  I'll  take 
him  yit ;  an'  when  I  do  I'll  clar  out'n  the  State  o' 
Tennessee — see  ef  I  don't !" 

She  turned  white  and  trembled.  "  Ye  dassent," 
she  cried  out  shrilly.  "  Ye'll  be  'feared  o'  the  law." 

"Wait  an'  see  !"  He  mockingly  echoed  her  words, 
and  turned  in  his  old  confident  manner,  and  strode 
out  of  the  crowd. 

Faint  and  trembling,  she  crept  into  the  old  can 
vas-covered  wagon,  and  as  it  jogged  along  down 
the  road  stiff  with  its  frozen  ruts  and  ever  nearing 
the  mountains,  she  clasped  the  cheerful  Kittredge 
with  a  yearning  sense  of  loss,  and  declared  that 
the  judge  had  made  him  no  safer  than  before.  It 
was  in  vain  that  her  father,  speaking  from  the 
legal  lore  of  the  code,  detailed  the  contempt  of 
court  that  the  Kittredges  would  commit  should 
they  undertake  to  interfere  with  the  judicial  de 
cision — it  might  be  even  considered  kidnapping. 

"  But  what  good  would  that  do  me — an'  the  baby 
whisked  plumb  out'n  the  State  ?  Ef  Abs'lom  ain't 
'feared  o'  Tim's  rifle,  what's  he  goin'  ter  keer  fur 
the  pore  jedge  with  nare  weepon  but  his  leetle  con 
tempt  o'  court  —  ter  jail  Abs'lom,  ef  he  kin  make 
out  ter  ketch  him  !" 

She  leaned  against  the  swaying  hoop  of  the  cov 
er  of  the  wagon  and  burst  into  tears.  "  Oh,  none 


HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT"  123 

o'  ye  '11  do  nuthin'  fur  me  !"  she  exclaimed,  in  fran 
tic  reproach.  "  Nuthin' !" 

"Ye  talk  like  'twar  we-uns  ez  made  up  sech  fool 
ishness  ez  habeas  corpus  out'n  our  own  heads,"  said 
Timothy.  "  I  'ain't  never  looked  ter  the  law  fur 
pertection.  Hyar's  the  pertecter."  He  touched 
the  trigger  of  his  rifle  and  glanced  reassuringly  at 
his  sister  as  he  sat  beside  her  on  the  plank  laid  as 
a  seat  from  side  to  side  of  the  wagon. 

She  calmed  herself  for  a  moment;  then  suddenly 
looked  aghast  at  the  rifle,  and  with  some  occult  and 
hideous  thought,  burst  anew  into  tears. 

"Waal,  sir,"  exclaimed  Stephen,  outdone,  "what 
with  all  this  hyar  daily  weepin'  an'  nightly  mournin', 
I  'ain't  got  spunk  enough  lef  ter  stan'  up  agin  the 
leetlest  Kittredge  a-goin'.  I  ain't  man  enough  ter 
sight  a  rifle.  Kittredges  kin  kem  enny  time  an' 
take  my  hide,  horns,  an'  tallow  ef  they  air  minded 
so  ter  do." 

"  I  'lowed  I  hearn  suthin'  a-gallopin'  down  the 
road,"  said  Tim,  abruptly. 

Her  tears  suddenly  ceased.  She  clutched  the  baby 
closer,  and  turned  and  lifted  the  flap  of  the  white 
curtain  at  the  back  of  the  wagon,  and  looked  out 
with  a  wild  and  terror-stricken  eye.  The  red  clay 
road  stretched  curveless,  a  long  way  visible  and 
vacant.  The  black  bare  trees  stood  shivering  in 
the  chilly  blast  on  either  side ;  among  them  was  an 
occasional  clump  of  funereal  cedars.  Away  off  the 
brown  wooded  hills  rose ;  snow  lay  in  thin  crust-like 
patches  here  and  there,  and  again  the  earth  wore 
the  pallid  gray  of  the  crab-grass  or  the  ochreous 
red  of  the  gully-washed  clay. 


124  HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT" 

"  I  don't  see  nuthin',"  she  said,  in  the  bated 
voice  of  affrighted  suspense. 

While  she  still  looked  out  flakes  suddenly  began 
to  fly,  hardly  falling  at  first,  but  poised  tentatively, 
fluctuating  athwart  the  scene,  presently  thickening, 
quickening,  obscuring  it  all,  isolating  the  woods  with 
an  added  sense  of  solitude  since  the  sight  of  the 
world  and  the  sound  of  it  were  so  speedily  annulled. 
Even  the  creak  of  the  wagon-wheels  was  muffled. 
Through  the  semicircular  aperture  in  the  front  of 
the  wagon-cover  the  horns  of  the  oxen  were  dimly 
seen  amidst  the  serried  flakes  ;  the  snow  whitened 
the  backs  of  the  beasts  and  added  its  burden  to 
their  yoke.  Once  as  they  jogged  on  she  fancied 
again  that  she  heard  hoof -beats — this  time  a  long 
way  ahead,  thundering  over  a  little  bridge  high 
above  a  swirling  torrent,  that  reverberated  with  a 
hollow  tone  to  the  faintest  footfall.  "Jes  some 
body  ez  hev  passed  we-uns,  takin'  the  short-cut  by 
the  bridle-path,"  she  ruminated.  No  pursuer,  evi 
dently. 

Everything  was  deeply  submerged  in  the  snow 
before  they  reached  the  dark  little  cabin  nestling 
in  the  Cove.  Motionless  and  dreary  it  was ;  not 
even  a  blue  and  gauzy  wreath  curled  out  of  the 
chimney,  for  the  fire  had  died  on  the  hearth  in  their 
absence.  No  living  creature  was  to  be  seen.  The 
fowls  were  huddled  together  in  the  hen-house,  and 
the  dogs  had  accompanied  the  family  to  town,  trot 
ting  beneath  the  wagon  with  lolling  tongues  and 
smoking  breath  ;  when  they  nimbly  climbed  the 
fence  their  circular  footprints  were  the  first  traces 
to  mar  the  level  expanse  of  the  door-yard.  The 


HE   STOLE    NOISELESSLY  IN    THE    SOFT    SNOW 


HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT"  125 

bare  limbs  of  the  trees  were  laden  ;  the  cedars  bore 
great  flower-like  tufts  amidst  the  interlacing  fibrous 
foliage.  The  eaves  were  heavily  thatched ;  the 
drifts  lay  in  the  fence  corners. 

Everything  was  covered  except,  indeed,  one  side 
of  the  fodder-stack  that  stood  close  to  the  barn. 
Evelina,  going  out  to  milk  the  cow,  gazed  at  it  for 
a  moment  in  surprise.  The  snow  had  slipped 
down  from  it,  and  lay  in  rolls  and  piles  about  the 
base,  intermixed  with  the  sere  husks  and  blades 
that  seemed  torn  out  of  the  great  cone.  "  Waal, 
sir,  Spot  mus'  hev  been  hongry  fur  true,  ter  kem 
a-foragin'  this  wise.  Looks  ez  ef  she  hev  been 
fairly  a-burrowinV 

She  turned  and  glanced  over  her  shoulder  at 
tracks  in  the  snow  —  shapeless  holes,  and  filling 
fast  —  which  she  did  not  doubt  were  the  footprints 
of  the  big  red  cow,  standing  half  in  and  half  out  of 
the  wide  door,  slowly  chewing  her  cud,  her  breath 
visibly  curling  out  on  the  chill  air,  her  great  lips 
opening  to  emit  a  muttered  low.  She  moved  for 
ward  suddenly  into  the  shelter  as  Evelina  started 
anew  toward  it,  holding  the  piggin  in  one  hand 
and  clasping  the  baby  in  the  other  arm. 

Evelina  noted  the  sound  of  her  brothers'  two  axes, 
busy  at  the  wood-pile,  their  regular  cleavage  split 
ting  the  air  with  a  sharp  stroke  and  bringing  a 
crystalline  shivering  echo  from  the  icy  mountain. 
She  did  not  see  the  crouching  figure  that  came  cau 
tiously  burrowing  out  from  the  stack.  Absalom 
rose  to  his  full  height,  looking  keenly  about  him  the 
while,  and  stole  noiselessly  in  the  soft  snow  to  the 
stable,  and  peered  in  through  a  crevice  in  the  wall. 


126  HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT" 

Evelina  had  placed  the  piggin  upon  the  straw- 
covered  ground,  and  stood  among  the  horned 
cattle  and  the  huddling  sheep,  her  soft  melancholy 
face  half  shaded  by  the  red  shawl  thrown  over  her 
head  and  shoulders.  A  tress  of  her  brown  hair 
escaped  and  curled  about  her  white  neck,  and  hung 
down  over  the  bosom  of  her  dark-blue  homespun 
dress.  Against  her  shoulder  the  dun-colored  cow 
rubbed  her  horned  head.  The  baby  was  in  a  pen 
sive  mood,  and  scarcely  babbled.  The  reflection 
of  the  snow  was  on  his  face,  heightening  the  ex 
quisite  purity  of  the  tints  of  his  infantile  complex 
ion.  His  gentle,,  fawn-like  eyes  were  full  of  soft 
and  lustrous  languors.  His  long  lashes  drooped 
over  them  now,  and  again  were  lifted.  His  short 
down  of  yellow  hair  glimmered  golden  against  the 
red  shawl  over  his  mother's  shoulders. 

One  of  the  beasts  sank  slowly  upon  the  ground 
—  a  tired  creature  doubtless,  and  night  was  at 
hand  ;  then  another,  and  still  another.  Their  post 
ure  reminded  Absalom,  as  he  looked,  that  this  was 
Christmas  Eve,  and  of  the  old  superstition  that  the 
cattle  of  the  barns  spend  the  night  upon  their 
knees,  in  memory  of  the  wondrous  Presence  that 
once  graced  their  lowly  place.  The  boughs  rattled 
suddenly  in  the  chill  blast  above  his  head  ;  the 
drifts  fell  about  him.  He  glanced  up  mechanically 
to  see  in  the  zenith  a  star  of  gracious  glister,  trem 
ulous  and  tender,  in  the  rifts  of  the  breaking  clouds. 

"  I  wonder  ef  it  air  the  same  star  o'  Bethlehem  ?" 
he  said,  thinking  of  the  great  sidereal  torch  her 
alding  the  Light  of  the  World.  He  had  a  vague 
sense  that  this  star  has  never  set,  however  the  wan- 


HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT"  127 

dering  planets  may  come  and  go  in  their  wide  jour 
neys  as  the  seasons  roll.  He  looked  again  into  the 
glooming  place,  at  the  mother  and  her  child,  re 
membering  that  the  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth  had 
once  lain  in  a  manger,  and  clung  to  a  humble 
earthly  mother. 

The  man  shook  with  a  sudden  affright.  He  had 
intended  to  wrest  the  child  from  her  grasp,  and 
mount  and  ride  away ;  he  was  roused  from  his 
reverie  by  the  thrusting  upon  him  of  his  opportu 
nity,  facilitated  a  hundredfold.  Evelina  had  evi 
dently  forgotten  something.  She  hesitated  for  a 
moment ;  then  put  the  baby  down  upon  a  great  pile 
of  straw  among  the  horned  creatures,  and,  catching 
her  shawl  about  her  head,  ran  swiftly  to  the  house. 

Absalom  moved  mechanically  into  the  doorway. 
The  child,  still  pensive  and  silent,  and  looking  ten 
derly  infantile,  lay  upon  the  straw.  A  sudden 
pang  of  pity  for  her  pierced  his  heart:  how  her  own 
would  be  desolated  !  His  horse,  hitched  in  a  clump 
of  cedars,  awaited  him  ten  steps  away.  It  was  his 
only  chance — his  last  chance.  And  he  had  been 
hardly  entreated.  The  child's  eyes  rested,  startled 
and  dilated,  upon  him ;  he  must  be  quick. 

The  next  instant  he  turned  suddenly,  ran  has 
tily  through  the  snow,  crashed  among  the  cedars, 
mounted  his  horse,  and  galloped  away. 

It  was  only  a  moment  that  Evelina  expected  to 
be  at  the  house,  but  the  gourd  of  salt  which  she 
sought  was  not  in  its  place.  She  hurried  out  with 
it  at  last,  unprescient  of  any  danger  until  all  at 
once  she  saw  the  footprints  of  a  man  in  the  snow, 
otherwise  untrodden,  about  the  fodder-stack.  She 


128  HIS  "DAY  IN  COURT" 

still  heard  the  two  axes  at  the  wood-pile.  Her 
father,  she  knew,  was  at  the  house. 

A  smothered  scream  escaped  her  lips.  The  steps 
had  evidently  gone  into  the  stable,  and  had  come 
out  thence.  Her  faltering  strength  could  scarcely 
support  her  to  the  door.  And  then  she  saw  lying 
in  the  straw  Elnathan  Daniel,  beginning  to  babble 
and  gurgle  again,  and  to  grow  very  pink  with  joy 
over  a  new  toy — a  man's  glove,  a  red  woollen  glove, 
accidentally  dropped  in  the  straw.  She  caught  it 
from  his  hands,  and  turned  it  about  curiously.  She 
had  knit  it  herself — for  Absalom  ! 

When  she  came  into  the  house,  beaming  with  joy, 
the  baby  holding  the  glove  in  his  hands,  the  men 
listened  to  her  in  dumfounded  amaze,  and  with  sig 
nificant  side  glances  at  each  other. 

"  He  wouldn't  take  the  baby  whenst  he  hed  the 
chance,  'kase  he  knowed  'twould  hurt  me  so.  An' 
he  never  wanted  ter  torment  me — I  reckon  he 
never  did  mean  ter  torment  me.  An'  he  did  'low 
wunst  he  war  sorry  he  spited  dad.  Oh  !  I  hev  been 
a  heap  too  quick  an'  spiteful  myself.  I  hev  been 
so  terrible  wrong  !  Look  a-hyar  ;  he  lef  this  glove 
ter  show  me  he  hed  been  hyar,  an'  could  hev  tuk 
the  baby  ef  he  hed  hed  the  heart  ter  do  it.  Oh  ! 
I'm  goin'  right  up  the  mounting  an'  tell  him  how 
sorry  I  be." 

"  Toler'ble  cheap  !"  grumbled  Stephen  —  "  one 
old  glove.  An'  he'll  git  Elnathan  Daniel  an'  ye  too. 
A  smart  fox  he  be." 

They  could  not  dissuade  her.  And  after  a  time 
it  came  to  pass  that  the  Quimbey  and  Kittredge 
feuds  were  healed  ,  for  how  could  the  heart  of  a 


OLD    QUIMBEY    AND    HIS    GRANDSON 


HIS   "DAY    IN    COURT"  129 

grandfather  withstand  a  toddling  spectacle  in  pink 
calico  that  ran  away  one  day  some  two  years  later, 
in  company  with  an  adventurous  dog,  and  came 
down  the  mountain  to  the  cabin  in  the  Cove, 
squeezing  through  the  fence  rails  after  the  manner 
of  his  underfoot  world,  proceeding  thence  to  the 
house,  where  he  made  himself  very  merry  and  very 
welcome  ?  And  when  Tim  mounted  his  horse  and 
rode  up  the  mountain  with  the  youngster  on  the 
pommel  of  the  saddle,  lest  Evelina  should  be  out  of 
her  mind  with  fright  because  of  his  absence,  how 
should  he  and  old  Mrs.  Kittredge  differ  in  their 
respective  opinions  of  his  vigorous  growth,  and 
grace  of  countenance,  and  peartness  of  manner  ? 
On  the  strength  of  this  concurrence  Tim  was  in 
duced  to  "  'light  an'  hitch,"  and  he  even  sat  on  the 
cabin  porch  and  talked  over  the  crops  with  Ab 
salom,  who,  the  next  time  he  went  to  town,  stopped 
at  the  cabin  in  the  Cove  to  bring  word  how  El- 
nathan  Daniel  was  "  thrivin'."  The  path  that  Eve 
lina  had  worn  to  the  crag  in  those  first  homesick 
days  on  the  mountain  rapidly  extended  itself  into 
the  Cove,  and  widened  and  grew  smooth,  as  the 
grandfather  went  up  and  the  grandson  came  down. 


'WAY   DOWN   IN   LONESOME    COVE 


'WAY   DOWN   IN   LONESOME  COVE 

ONE  memorable  night  in  Lonesome  Cove  the 
ranger  of  the  county  entered  upon  a  momentous 
crisis  in  his  life.  What  hour  it  was  he  could  hardly 
have  said,  for  the  primitive  household  reckoned 
time  by  the  sun  when  it  shone,  by  the  domestic 
routine  when  no  better  might  be.  It  was  late.  The 
old  crone  in  the  chimney-corner  nodded  over  her 
knitting.  In  the  trundle-bed  at  the  farther  end  of 
the  shadowy  room  were  transverse  billows  under  the 
quilts,  which  intimated  that  the  small  children  were 
numerous  enough  for  the  necessity  of  sleeping  cross 
wise.  He  had  smoked  out  many  pipes,  and  at  last 
knocked  the  cinder  from  the  bowl.  The  great  hick 
ory  logs  had  burned  asunder  and  fallen  from  the 
stones  that  served  as  andirons.  He  began  to  slowly 
cover  the  embers  with  ashes,  that  the  fire  might 
keep  till  morning. 

His  wife,  a  faded  woman,  grown  early  old,  was 
bringing  the  stone  jar  of  yeast  to  place  close  by 
the  hearth,  that  it  might  not  "  take  a  chill "  in  some 
sudden  change  of  the  night.  It  was  heavy,  and 
she  bent  in  carrying  it.  Awkward,  and  perhaps 
nervous,  she  brought  it  sharply  against  the  shovel 
in  his  hands. 

The  clash  roused  the  old   crone   in   the  corner. 


134  'WAY  DOWN  IN  LONESOME  COVE 

She  recognized  the  situation  instantly,  and  the  feat 
ures  that  sleep  had  relaxed  into  inexpressiveness 
took  on  a  weary  apprehension,  which  they  wore  like 
a  habit.  The  man  barely  raised  his  surly  black 
eyes,  but  his  wife  drew  back  humbly  with  a  mutter 
of  apology. 

The  next  moment  the  shovel  was  almost  thrust 
out  of  his  grasp.  A  tiny  barefooted  girl,  in  a 
straight  unbleached  cotten  night-gown  and  a  quaint 
little  cotton  night-cap,  cavalierly  pushed  him  aside, 
that  she  might  cover  in  the  hot  ashes  a  burly  sweet- 
potato,  destined  to  slowly  roast  by  morning.  A 
long  and  careful  job  she  made  of  it,  and  unconcern 
edly  kept  him  waiting  while  she  pottered  back  and 
forth  about  the  hearth.  She  loooked  up  once  with 
an  authoritative  eye,  and  he  hastily  helped  to  ad 
just  the  potato  with  the  end  of  the  shovel.  And 
then  he  glanced  at  her,  incongruously  enough,  as 
if  waiting  for  her  autocratic  nod  of  approval.  She 
gravely  accorded  it,  and  pattered  nimbly  across  the 
puncheon  floor  to  the  bed. 

"Now,"  he  drawled,  in  gruff  accents,  "ef  you-uns 
hev  all  had  yer  fill  o'  foolin'  with  this  hyar  fire,  I'll 
kiver  it,  like  I  hev  started  out  ter  do." 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  loud  trampling  upon 
the  porch  without.  The  batten  door  shook  violently. 
The  ranger  sprang  up.  As  he  frowned  the  hair  on 
his  scalp,  drawn  forward,  seemed  to  rise  like  bristles. 

"  Dad-burn  that  thar  fresky  filly !"  he  cried,  an 
grily.  "  Jes'  bwung  her  noisy  bones  up  on  that  thar 
porch  agin,  an'  her  huffs  will  bust  spang  through  the 
planks  o'  the  floor  the  fust  thing  ye  know." 

The  narrow  aperture,  as  he  held  the  door  ajar, 


'WAY   DOWN   IN   LONESOME  COVE  135 

showed  outlined  against  the  darkness  the  graceful 
head  of  a  young  mare,  and  once  more  hoof-beats 
resounded  on  the  rotten  planks  of  the  porch. 

Clouds  were  adrift  in  the  sky.  No  star  gleamed 
in  the  wide  space  high  above  the  sombre  mountains. 
On  every  side  they  encompassed  Lonesome  Cove, 
which  seemed  to  have  importunately  thrust  itself 
into  the  darkling  solemnities  of  their  intimacy. 

All  at  once  the  ranger  let  the  door  fly  from  his 
hand,  and  stood  gazing  in  blank  amazement.  For 
there  was  a  strange  motion  in  the  void  vastnesses 
of  the  wilderness.  They  were  creeping  into  view. 
How,  he  could  not  say,  but  the  summit  of  the  great 
mountain  opposite  was  marvellously  distinct  against 
the  sky.  He  saw  the  naked,  gaunt,  December 
woods.  He  saw  the  grim,  gray  crags.  And  yet 
Lonesome  Cove  below  and  the  spurs  on  the  other 
side  were  all  benighted.  A  pale,  flickering  light 
was  dawning  in  the  clouds ;  it  brightened,  faded, 
glowed  again,  and  their  sad,  gray  folds  assumed  a 
vivid  vermilion  reflection,  for  there  was  a  fire  in 
the  forest  below.  Only  these  reactions  of  color  on 
the  clouds  betokened  its  presence  and  its  progress. 
Sometimes  a  fluctuation  of  orange  crossed  them, 
then  a  glancing  line  of  blue,  and  once  more  that 
living  red  hue  which  only  a  pulsating  flame  can 
bestow. 

"  Air  it  the  comin'  o'  the  Jedgmint  Day,  Tobe  ?" 
asked  his  wife,  in  a  meek  whisper. 

"  I'd  be  afraid  so  if  I  war  ez  big  a  sinner  ez  you- 
uns,"  he  returned. 

"  The  woods  air  afire,"  the  old  woman  declared, 
in  a  shrill  voice. 


136  'WAY   DOWN   IN   LONESOME   COVE 

"They  be  a-soakin'  with  las'  night's  rain,"  he  re 
torted,  gruffly. 

The  mare  was  standing  near  the  porch.  Sudden 
ly  he  mounted  her  and  rode  hastily  off,  without  a 
word  of  his  intention  to  the  staring  women  in  the 
doorway. 

He  left  freedom  of  speech  behind  him.  "  Take 
yer  bones  along,  then,  ye  tongue-tied  catamount!" 
his  wife's  mother  apostrophized  him,  with  all  the 
acrimony  of  long  repression.  "Got  no  mo'  polite 
ness  'n  a  settin'  hen,"  she  muttered,  as  she  turned 
back  into  the  room. 

The  young  woman  lingered  wistfully.  "  I  wisht 
he  wouldn't  go  a-ridin'  off  that  thar  way  'thout  lettin1 
we-uns  know  whar  he  air  bound  fur,  an'  when  he'll 
kem  back.  He  mought  git  hurt  some  ways  roun' 
that  thar  fire — git  overtook  by  it,  mebbe." 

"  Ef  he  war  roasted  'twould  be  mighty  peaceful 
round  in  Lonesome,"  the  old  crone  exclaimed,  ran- 
corously. 

Her  daughter  stood  for  a  moment  with  the  bar 
of  the  door  in  her  hand,  still  gazing  out  at  the  flare 
in  the  sky.  The  unwonted  emotion  had  conjured  a 
change  in  the  stereotyped  patience  in  her  face — 
even  anxiety,  even  the  acuteness  of  fear,  seemed  a 
less  pathetic  expression  than  that  meek  monotony 
bespeaking  a  broken  spirit.  As  she  lifted  her  eyes 
to  the  mountain  one  might  wonder  to  see  that  they 
were  so  blue.  In  the  many  haggard  lines  drawn 
upon  her  face  the  effect  of  the  straight  lineaments 
was  lost ;  but  just  now,  embellished  with  a  flush,  she 
looked  young — as  young  as  her  years. 

As  she  buttoned  the  door  and  put  up  the  bar  her 


'WAY    DOWN    IN    LONESOME   COVE  137 

mother's  attention  was  caught  by  the  change.  Peer 
ing  at  her  critically,  and  shading  her  eyes  with  her 
hand  from  the  uncertain  flicker  of  the  tallow  dip, 
she  broke  out,  passionately:  "  YWal,  'Genie,  who 
would  ever  hev  thought  ez  yer  cake  would  be  all 
dough  ?  Sech  a  laffin',  plump,  spry  gal  ez  ye  useter 
be — fur  all  the  worl'  like  a  fresky  young  deer!  An' 
sech  a  pack  o'  men  ez  ye  hed  the  ctioice  amongst ! 
An'  ter  pick  out  Tobe  Gryce  an'  marry  him,  an'  kern 
'way  down  hyar  ter  live  along  o'  him  in  Lonesome 
Cove  !" 

She  chuckled  aloud,  not  that  she  relished  her 
mirth,  but  the  harlequinade  of  fate  constrained  a 
laugh  for  its  antics.  The  words  recalled  the  past 
to  Eugenia ;  it  rose  visibly  before  her.  She  had 
had  scant  leisure  to  reflect  that  her  life  might  have 
been  ordered  differently.  In  her  widening  eyes 
were  new  depths,  a  vague  terror,  a  wild  speculation, 
all  struck  aghast  by  its  own  temerity. 

"  Ye  never  said  nuthin  ter  hencler,"  she  fal 
tered. 

"  I  never  knowed  Tobe,  sca'cely.  How's  enny- 
body  goin'  ter  know  a  man  ez  lived  'way  off  down 
hyar  in  Lonesome  Cove?"  her  mother  retorted, 
acridly,  on  the  defensive.  "  He  never  courted  me, 
nohows.  All  the  word  he  gin  me  war,  '  Howdy,'  an' 
I  gin  him  no  less." 

There  was  a  pause. 

Eugenia  knelt  on  the  hearth.  She  placed  to 
gether  the  broken  chunks,  and  fanned  the  flames 
with  a  turkey  wing.  "  I  won't  kiver  the  fire  yit," 
she  said,  thoughtfully.  "  He  mought  be  chilled 
when  he  gits  home." 


138  'WAY    DOWN    IN    LONESOME  COVE 

The  feathery  flakes  of  the  ashes  flew ;  they  caught 
here  and  there  in  her  brown  hair.  The  blaze  flared 
up,  and  flickered  over  her  flushed,  pensive  face,  and 
glowed  in  her  large  and  brilliant  eyes. 

"  Tobe  said  *  Howdy,'  "  her  mother  bickered  on. 
"  I  knowed  by  that  ez  he  hed  the  gift  o'  speech,  but 
he  spent  no  mo'  words  on  me."  Then,  suddenly, 
with  a  change  of  tone:  "I  war  a  fool,  though,  ter 
gin  my  cornsent  ter  yer  marryin'  him,  bein'  ez  ye 
war  the  only  child  I  hed,  an'  I  knowed  I'd  hev  ter 
live  with  ye  'way  down  hyar  in  Lonesome  Cove. 
I  wish  now  ez  ye  hed  abided  by  yer  fust  choice,  an' 
married  Luke  Todd." 

Eugenia  looked  up  with  a  gathering  frown.  "  I 
hev  no  call  ter  spen'  words  'bout  Luke  Todd,"  she 
said,  with  dignity,  "ez  me  an'  him  are  both  married 
ter  other  folks." 

"I  never  said  ye  hed,"  hastily  replied  the  old 
woman,  rebuked  and  embarrassed.  Presently,  how 
ever,  her  vagrant  speculation  went  recklessly  on. 
"Though  ez  ter  Luke's  marryin',  'tain't  wuth  while 
ter  set  store  on  sech.  The  gal  he  found  over  thar 
in  Big  Fox  Valley  favors  ye  ez  close  ez  two  black- 
eyed  peas.  That's  why  he  married  her.  She  looks 
precisely  like  ye  useter  look.  An'  she  laffs  the 
same.  An'  I  reckon  she  'ain't  hed  no  call  ter  quit 
laffin',  'kase  he  air  a  powerful  easy-goin'  man. 
Leastways,  he  useter  be  when  we-uns  knowed  him." 

"  That  ain't  no  sign,"  said  Eugenia.  "  A  saafter- 
spoken  body  I  never  seen  than  Tobe  war  when  he 
fust  kem  a-courtin'  round  the  settlemint." 

"  Sech  ez  that  ain't  goin'  ter  las'  noways,"  dryly 
remarked  the  philosopher  of  the  chimney-corner. 


'WAY  DOWN    IN   LONESOME  COVE  139 

This  might  seem  rather  a  reflection  upon  the 
courting  gentry  in  general  than  a  personal  observa 
tion.  But  Eugenia's  consciousness  lent  it  point. 

"  Laws-a-massy,"  she  said,  "  Tobe  ain't  so  rampa- 
gious,  nohows,  ez  folks  make  him  out.  He  air 
toler'ble  peaceable,  cornsiderin'  ez  nobody  hev  ever 
hed  grit  enough  ter  make  a  stand  agin  him,  'thout 
'twar  the  Gunnel  thar." 

She  glanced  around  at  the  little  girl's  face  framed 
in  the  frill  of  her  night-cap,  and  peaceful  and  infan 
tile  as  it  lay  on  the  pillow. 

"Whenst  the  Gunnel  war  born,"  Eugenia  went 
on,  languidly  reminiscent,  "  Tobe  war  powerful  outed 
'kase  she  war  a  gal.  I  reckon  ye  'members  ez  how 
he  said  he  hed  no  use  for  sech  cattle  ez  that.  An' 
when  she  tuk  sick  he  'lowed  he  seen  no  differ.  '  Jes 
ez  well  die  ez  live,'  he  said.  An'  bein'  ailin',  the 
Gunnel  tuk  it  inter  her  head  ter  holler.  Sech  holler- 
in'  we-uns  hed  never  hearn  with  none  o'  the  t'other 
chil'ren.  The  boys  war  nowhar.  But  a-fust  it  never 
'sturbed  Tobe.  He  jes  spoke  out  same  ez  he  useter 
do  at  the  t'others,  '  Shet  up,  ye  pop-eyed  buzzard  !' 
Wa'al,  sir,  the  Gunnel  jes  blinked  at  him,  an'  braced 
herself  ez  stiff,  an'  yelled!  I  'lowed  'twould  take 
off  the  roof.  An'  Tobe  said  he'd  wring  her  neck  ef 
she  warn't  so  mewlin'-lookin'  an'  peaked.  An'  he 
tuk  her  up  an'  walked  across  the  floor  with  her,  an' 
she  shet  up  ;  an'  he  walked  back  agin,  an'  she  stayed 
shet  up.  Ef  he  sot  down  fur  a  minit,  she  yelled  so 
ez  ye'd  think  ye'd  be  deef  fur  life,  an'  ye  'most  hoped 
ye  would  be.  So  Tobe  war  obleeged  ter  tote  her 
agin  ter  git  shet  o'  the  noise.  He  got  started  on 
that  thar  *  forced  march,'  ez  he  calls  it,  an'  he  never 


140  WAY    DOWN    IN    LONESOME   COVE 

could  git  off'n  it.  Trot  he  must  when  the  Gunnel 
pleased.  He  'lowed  she  reminded  him  o'  that  thar 
old  Gunnel  that  he  sarved  under  in  the  wars.  Ef  it 
killed  the  regiment,  he  got  thar  on  time.  Sence 
then  the  Gunnel  jes  gins  Tobe  her  orders,  an'  he 
moseys  ter  do  'em  quick,  jes  like  he  war  obleeged 
ter  obey.  I  b'lieve  he  air,  somehows." 

"  Wa'al,  some  day,"  said  the  disaffected  old  wom 
an,  assuming  a  port  of  prophetic  wisdom,  "  Tobe 
will  find  a  differ.  Thar  ain't  no  man  so  headin'  ez 
don't  git  treated  with  perslimness  by  somebody  some 
time.  I  knowed  a  man  wunst  ez  owned  fower  horses 
an'  cattle  -  critters  quarryspondin',  an'  he  couldn't 
prove  ez  he  war  too  old  ter  be  summonsed  ter  work 
on  the  road,  an'  war  fined  by  the  overseer  'cordin' 
ter  law.  Tobe  will  git  his  wheel  scotched  yit,  sure 
ez  ye  air  born.  Somebody  besides  the  Gunnel  will 
skeer  up  grit  enough  ter  make  a  stand  agin  him.  I 
dunno  how  other  men  kin  sleep  o'  night,  knowin' 
how  he  be  always  darin'  folks  ter  differ  with  him, 
an'  how  brigaty  he  be.  The  Bible  'pears  ter  me  ter 
hev  Tobe  in  special  mind  when  it  gits  ter  mournin' 
'bout'n  the  stiff-necked  ones." 

The  spirited  young  mare  that  the  ranger  rode 
strove  to  assert  herself  against  him  now  and  then, 
as  she  went  at  a  breakneck  speed  along  the  sandy 
bridle-path  through  the  woods.  How  was  she  to 
know  that  the  white-wanded  young  willow  by  the 
way-side  was  not  some  spiritual  manifestation  as  it 
suddenly  materialized  in  a  broken  beam  from  a  rift 
in  the  clouds  ?  But  as  she  reared  and  plunged  she 
felt  his  heavy  hand  and  his  heavy  heel,  and  so  for- 


'WAY   DOWN   IN    LONESOME   COVE  141 

ward  again  at  a  steady  pace.  The  forests  served  to 
screen  the  strange  light  in  the  sky,  and  the  lonely 
road  was  dark,  save  where  the  moonbeam  was  splin 
tered  and  the  mists  loitered. 

Presently  there  were  cinders  flying  in  the  breeze, 
a  smell  of  smoke  pervaded  the  air,  and  the  ranger 
forgot  to  curse  the  mare  when  she  stumbled. 

"I  wonder,"  he  muttered,  "what  them  no  'count 
half-livers  o'  town  folks  hev  hed  the  shiftlessness 
ter  let  ketch  afire  thar!" 

As  he  neared  the  brink  of  the  mountain  he  saw  a 
dense  column  of  smoke  against  the  sky,  and  a  break 
in  the  woods  showed  the  little  town  —  the  few  log 
houses,  the  "gyarden  spots"  about  them,  and  in  the 
centre  of  the  Square  a  great  mass  of  coals,  a  flame 
flickering  here  and  there,  and  two  gaunt  and  totter 
ing  chimneys  where  once  the  court-house  had  stood. 
At  some  distance  —  for  the  heat  was  still  intense — 
were  grouped  the  slouching,  spiritless  figures  of  the 
mountaineers.  On  the  porches  of  the  houses,  plainly 
visible  in  the  unwonted  red  glow,  were  knots  of 
women  and  children  —  ever  and  anon  a  brat  in  the 
scantiest  of  raiment  ran  nimbly  in  and  out.  The 
clouds  still  borrowed  the  light  from  below,  and  the 
solemn,  leafless  woods  on  one  side  were  outlined 
distinctly  against  the  reflection  in  the  sky.  The 
flare  showed,  too,  the  abrupt  precipice  on  the  other 
side,  the  abysmal  gloom  of  the  valley,  the  austere 
summit  -  line  of  the  mountain  beyond,  and  gave 
the  dark  mysteries  of  the  night  a  sombre  revela 
tion,  as  in  visible  blackness  it  filled  the  illimitable 
space.  ' 

The  little  mare  was  badly  blown  as  the  ranger 


142  'WAY  DOWN  IN  LONESOME  COVE 

sprang  to  the  ground.  He  himself  was  panting 
with  amazement  and  eagerness. 

"  The  stray-book  !"  he  cried.  "  Whar's  the  stray- 
book  ?" 

One  by  one  the  slow  group  turned,  all  looking  at 
him  with  a  peering  expression  as  he  loomed  distort 
ed  through  the  shimmer  of  the  heat  above  the  bed 
of  live  coals  and  the  hovering  smoke. 

"  Whar's  the  stray-book  ?"  he  reiterated,  imperi 
ously. 

"  Whar's  the  court  -  house,  I  reckon  ye  mean  to 
say,"  replied  the  sheriff — a  burly  mountaineer  in 
brown  jeans  and  high  boots,  on  which  the  spurs 
jingled ;  for  in  his  excitement  he  had  put  them  on 
as  mechanically  as  his  clothes,  as  if  they  were  an 
essential  part  of  his  attire. 

•"  Naw,  I  ain't  meanin'  ter  say  whar's  the  court 
house,"  said  the  ranger,  coming  up  close,  with  the 
red  glow  of  the  fire  on  his  face,  and  his  eyes  flash 
ing  under  the  broad  brim  of  his  wool  hat.  He  had 
a  threatening  aspect,  and  his  elongated  shadow, 
following  him  and  repeating  the  menace  of  his  atti 
tude,  seemed  to  back  him  up.  "  Ye  air  seen  a 
triflin',  slack-twisted  tribe  hyar  in  town,  ez  ennybody 
would  know  ef  a  spark  cotched  fire  ter  suthin,  ye'd 
set  an'  suck  yer  paws,  an'  eye  it  till  it  bodaciously 
burnt  up  the  court-house  —  sech  a  dad-burned  lazy 
set  o'  half- livers  ye  be !  I  never  axed  'bout'n  the 
court-house.  I  want  ter  know  whar's  that  thar  stray- 
book,"  he  concluded,  inconsequently. 

"Tobe  Gryce,  ye  air  fairly  demented,"  exclaimed 
the  register — a  chin-whiskered,  grizzled  old  fellow, 
sitting  on  a  stump  and  hugging  his  knee  with  a 


'WAY   DOWN    IN    LONESOME  COVE  143 

desolate,  bereaved  look — "talkirT  'bout  the  stray- 
book,  an'  all  the  records  gone !  What  will  folks  do 
'bout  thar  deeds,  an'  mortgages,  an'  sech  ?  An'  that 
thar  keerful  index  ez  I  had  made — ez  straight  ez  a 
string — all  cinders  !" 

He  shook  his  head,  mourning  alike  for  the  par 
ty  of  the  first  part  and  the  party  of  the  second  part, 
and  the  vestiges  of  all  that  they  had  agreed  to 
gether. 

"  An'  ye  ter  kem  mopin'  hyar  this  time  o'  night 
arter  the  stray-book'"  said  the  sheriff.  "Shucks!" 
And  he  turned  aside  and  spat  disdainfully  on  the 
ground. 

"  I  want  that  thar  stray-book !"  cried  Gryce,  in 
dignantly.  "  Ain't  nobody  seen  it  ?"  Then  realiz 
ing  the  futility  of  the  question,  he  yielded  to  a  fresh 
burst  of  anger,  and  turned  upon  the  bereaved  regis 
ter.  "  An'  did  ye  jes  set  thar  an'  say,  '  Good  Mister 
Fire,  don't  burn  the  records ;  what  '11  folks  do  'bout 
thar  deeds  an'  sech  ?'  an'  hold  them  claws  o*  yourn, 
an'  see  the  court-house  burn  up,  with  that  thar  stray- 
book  in  it?" 

Haifa  dozen  men  spoke  up.  "The  fire  tuk  in 
side,  an'  the  court-house  war  haffen  gone  'fore  'twar 
seen,"  said  one,  in  sulky  extenuation. 

"Leave  Tobe  be — let  him  jaw!"  said  another, 
cavalierly. 

"Tobe  'pears  ter  be  sp'ilin'  fur  a  fight,"  said  a 
third,  impersonally,  as  if  to  direct  the  attention  of 
any  belligerent  in  the  group  to  the  opportunity. 

The  register  had  an  expression  of  slow  cunning  as 
he  cast  a  glance  up  at  the  overbearing  ranger. 

"  What  ailed  the  stray-book  ter  bide  hyar  in  the 


144  'WAY  DOWN  IN  LONESOME  COVE 

court-house  all  night,  Tobe?  Couldn't  ye  gin  it 
house-room  ?  Thar  warn't  no  special  need  fur  it  to 
be  hyar." 

Tobe  Gryce's  face  showed  that  for  once  he  was 
at  a  loss.  He  glowered  down  at  the  register  and 
said  nothing. 

"Ez  ter  me,"  resumed  that  worthy,  "by  the  law 
o'  the  land  my  books  war  obligated  ter  be  thar." 
He  quoted,  mournfully,  "'Shall  at  all  times  be  and 
remain  in  his  office.'  " 

He  gathered  up  his  knee  again  and  subsided  into 
silence. 

All  the  freakish  spirits  of  the  air  were  a-loose  in 
the  wind.  In  fitful  gusts  they  rushed  up  the  gorge, 
then  suddenly  the  boughs  would  fall  still  again,  and 
one  could  hear  the  eerie  rout  a-rioting  far  off  down 
the  valley.  Now  and  then  the  glow  of  the  fire 
would  deepen,  the  coals  tremble,  and  with  a  gleam 
ing,  fibrous  swirl,  like  a  garment  of  flames,  a  sudden 
animation  would  sweep  over  it,  as  if  an  apparition 
had  passed,  leaving  a  line  of  flying  sparks  to  mark 
its  trail. 

"  I'm  goin'  home,"  drawled  Tobe  Gryce,  presently. 
"  I  don't  keer  a  frog's  toe-nail  ef  the  whole  settle- 
mint  burns  bodaciously  up ;  'tain't  nuthin  ter  me. 
I  hev  never  hankered  ter  live  in  towns  an'  git  tuk 
up  with  town  ways,  an'  set  an'  view  the  court-house 
like  the  apple  o'  my  eye.  We-uns  don't  ketch  fire 
down  in  the  Cove,  though  mebbe  we  ain't  so  peart 
ez  folks  ez  herd  tergether  like  sheep  an'  sech." 

The  footfalls  of  the  little  black  mare  annotated 
the  silence  of  the  place  as  he  rode  away  into  the 
darkling  woods.  The  groups  gradually  disappeared 


'WAY  DOWN   IN    LONESOME   COVE  145 

from  the  porches.  The  few  voices  that  sounded  at 
long  intervals  were  low  and  drowsy.  The  red  fire 
smouldered  in  the  centre  of  the  place,  and  some 
times  about  it  appeared  so  doubtful  a  shadow  that 
it  could  hardly  argue  substance.  Far  away  a  dog 
barked,  and  then  all  was  still. 

Presently  the  great  mountains  loom  aggressively 
along  the  horizon.  The  black  abysses,  the  valleys 
and  coves,  show  duncolored  verges  and  grow  grad 
ually  distinct,  and  on  the  slopes  the  ash  and  the 
pine  and  the  oak  are  all  lustrous  with  a  silver  rime. 
The  mists  are  rising,  the  wind  springs  up  anew,  the 
clouds  set  sail,  and  a  beam  slants  high. 

"What  I  want  ter  know,"  said  a  mountaineer 
newly  arrived  on  the  scene,  sitting  on  the  verge  of 
the  precipice,  and  dangling  his  long  legs  over  the 
depths  beneath,  "air  how  do  folks  ez  live  'way 
down  in  Lonesome  Cove,  an'  who  nobody  knowed 
nuthin  about  noways,  ever  git  'lected  ranger  o'  the 
county,  ennyhow.  I  ain't  s'prised  none  ter  hear 
'bout  Tobe  Gryce's  goin's-on  hyar  las'  night.  I 
hev  looked  fur  more'n  that." 

"  Wa'al,  I'll  tell  ye,"  replied  the  register.  "  Nuth 
in'  but  favoritism  in  the  county  court.  Ranger  air 
'lected  by  the  jestices.  Ye  know,"  he  added,  vain 
glorious  of  his  own  tenure  of  office  by  the  acclaim 
ing  voice  of  the  sovereign  people,  "ranger  ain't 
'lected,  like  the  register,  by  pop'lar  vote." 

A  slow  smoke  still  wreathed  upward  from  the 
charred  ruins  of  the  court-house.  Gossiping  groups 
stood  here  and  there,  mostly  the  jeans-clad  moun 
taineers,  but  there  were  a  few  who  wore  "  store 


146  'WAY'  DOWN   IN    LONESOME  COVE 

clothes,"  being  lawyers  from  more  sophisticated  re 
gions  of  the  circuit.  Court  had  been  in  session  the 
previous  day.  The  jury,  serving  in  a  criminal  case 
— still  strictly  segregated,  and  in  charge  of  an  officer 
— were  walking  about  wearily  in  double  file,  wait 
ing  with  what  patience  they  might  their  formal  dis 
charge. 

The  sheriff's  dog,  a  great  yellow  cur,  trotted  in 
the  rear.  When  the  officer  was  first  elected,  this 
animal,  observing  the  change  in  his  master's  habits, 
deduced  his  own  conclusions.  He  seemed  to  think 
the  court-house  belonged  to  the  sheriff,  and  thence 
forward  guarded  the  door  with  snaps  and  growls ; 
being  a  formidable  brute,  his  idiosyncrasies  invested 
the  getting  into  and  getting  out  of  law  with  abnor 
mal  difficulties.  Now,  as  he  followed  the  disconso 
late  jury,  he  bore  the  vigilant  mien  with  which  he  for 
merly  drove  up  the  cows,  and  if  a  juror  loitered 
or  stepped  aside  from  the  path,  the  dog  made  a 
slow  detour  as  if  to  round  him  in,  and  the  melan 
choly  cortege  wandered  on  as  before.  More  than 
one  looked  wistfully  at  the  group  on  the  crag,  for  it 
was  distinguished  by  that  sprightly  interest  which 
scandal  excites  so  readily. 

"  Ter  my  way  of  thinkin',"  drawled  Sam  Peters, 
swinging  his  feet  over  the  giddy  depths  of  the 
valley,  "  Tobe  ain't  sech  ez  oughter  be  set  over 
the  county  ez  a  ranger,  noways.  Tears  not  ter 
me,  an'  I  hev  been  keepin'  my  eye  on  him  mighty 
sharp." 

A  shadow  fell  among  the  group,  and  a  man  sat 
down  on  a  bowlder  hard  by.  He,  too,  had  just 
arrived,  being  lured  to  the  town  by  the  news  of  the 


'WAY  DOWN   IN   LONESOME  COVE  147 

fire.  His  slide  had  been  left  at  the  verge  of  the 
clearing,  and  one  of  the  oxen  had  already  lain  down  ; 
the  other,  although  hampered  by  the  yoke  thus 
diagonally  displaced,  stood  meditatively  gazing  at 
the  distant  blue  mountains.  Their  master  nodded 
a  slow,  grave  salutation  to  the  group,  produced  a  plug 
of  tobacco,  gnawed  a  fragment  from  it,  and  restored 
it  to  his  pocket.  He  had  a  pensive  face,  with  an 
expression  which  in  a  man  of  wider  culture  we 
should  discriminate  as  denoting  sensibility.  He 
had  long  yellow  hair  that  hung  down  to  his  shoul 
ders,  and  a  tangled  yellow  beard.  There  was  some 
thing  at  once  wistful  and  searching  in  his  gray  eyes, 
dull  enough,  too,  at  times.  He  lifted  them  heavily, 
and  they  had  a  drooping  lid  and  lash.  There  seem 
ed  an  odd  incongruity  between  this  sensitive,  weary 
face  and  his  stalwart  physique.  He  was  tall  and 
well  proportioned.  A  leather  belt  girded  his  brown 
jeans  coat.  His  great  cowhide  boots  were  drawn 
to  the  knee  over  his  trousers.  His  pose,  as  he 
leaned  on  the  rock,  had  a  muscular  picturesque- 
ness. 

"Who  be  ye  a-talkin' about?"  he  drawled. 

Peters  relished  his  opportunity.  He  laughed  in 
a  distorted  fashion,  his  pipe-stem  held  between  his 
teeth. 

"  You-uns  ain't  wantin'  ter  swop  lies  'bout  sech  ez 
him,  Luke !  We  war  a-talkin'  'bout  Tobe  Gryce." 

The  color  flared  into  the  new-comer's  face.  A 
sudden  animation  fired  his  eye. 

"Tobe  Gryce  air  jes  the  man  I'm  always  wantin' 
ter  hear  a  word  about.  Jes  perceed  with  yer  rat- 
killin'.  I'm  with  ye."  And  Luke  Todd  placed  his 


148  'WAY   DOWN   IN  LONESOME  COVE 

elbows  on  his  knees  and  leaned  forward  with  an  air 
of  attention. 

Peters  looked  at  him,  hardly  comprehending  this 
ebullition.  It  was  not  what  he  had  expected  to  elicit. 
No  one  laughed.  His  fleer  was  wide  of  the  mark. 

"  Wa'al"  --  he  made  another  effort  —  "  Tobe,  we 
war  jes  sayin',  ain't  fitten  fur  ter  be  ranger  o'  the 
county.  He  be  ez  peart  in  gittin'  ter  own  other 
folkses'  stray  cattle  ez  he  war  in  courtin'  other 
folkses'  sweetheart,  an',  ef  the  truth  mus'  be  knowed, 
in  marryin'  her."  He  suddenly  twisted  round,  in 
some  danger  of  falling  from  his  perch.  "  I  want 
ter  ax  one  o'  them  thar  big-headed  lawyers  a  ques 
tion  on  a  p'int  o'  law,"  he  broke  off,  abruptly. 

"  What  be  Tobe  Gryce  a-doin'  of  now  ?"  asked 
Luke  Todd,  with  eager  interest  in  the  subject. 

"Wa'al,"  resumed  Peters,  nowise  loath  to  return 
to  the  gossip,  "  Tobe,  ye  see,  air  the  ranger  o1  this 
hyar  county,  an'  by  law  all  the  stray  horses  ez  air 
tuk  up  by  folks  hev  ter  be  reported  ter  him,  an'  ap 
praised  by  two  householders,  an'  swore  to  afore  the 
magistrate  an'  be  advertised  by  the  ranger,  an'  ef 
they  ain't  claimed  'fore  twelve  months,  the  taker-up 
kin  pay  into  the  county  treasury  one-haffen  the  ap 
praisement  an'  hev  the  critter  fur  his'n.  An'  the 
owner  can't  prove  it  away  arter  that/' 

"  Thanky,"  said  Luke  Todd,  dryly.  "  S'pose  ye 
teach  yer  gran'mammy  ter  suck  aigs.  I  knowed  all 
that  afore." 

Peters  was  abashed,  and  with  some  difficulty  col 
lected  himself. 

"  An'  I  knowed  ye  knowed  it,  Luke,"  he  hastily 
conceded.  "But  hyar  be  what  I'm  a-lookin'  at — 


'WAY   DOWN    IN   LONESOME   COVE  149 

the  law  'ain't  got  no  pervision  fur  a  stray  horse  ez 
kem  of  a  dark  night,  'thout  nobody's  percuremint, 
ter  the  ranger's  own  house.  Now,  the  p'int  o'  law 
ez  I  wanted  ter  ax  the  lawyers  'bout  air  this  —  kin 
the  ranger  be  the  ranger  an'  the  taker-up  too?'' 

He  turned  his  eyes  upon  the  great  landscape  lying 
beneath,  flooded  with  the  chill  matutinal  sunshine, 
and  flecked  here  and  there  with  the  elusive  shadows 
of  the  fleecy  drifting  clouds.  Far  away  the  long 
horizontal  lines  of  the  wooded  spurs,  converging  on 
either  side  of  the  valley  and  rising  one  behind  the 
other,  wore  a  subdued  azure,  all  unlike  the  burning 
blue  of  summer,  and  lay  along  the  calm,  passionless 
sky,  that  itself  was  of  a  dim,  repressed  tone.  On  the 
slopes  nearer,  the  leafless  boughs,  massed  together, 
had  purplish -garnet  depths  of  color  wherever  the 
sunshine  struck  aslant,  and  showed  richly  against 
the  faintly  tinted  horizon.  Here  and  there  among 
the  boldly  jutting  gray  crags  hung  an  evergreen-vine, 
and  from  a  gorge  on  the  opposite  mountain  gleamed 
a  continuous  flash,  like  the  waving  of  a  silver  plume, 
where  a  cataract  sprang  down  the  rocks.  In  the 
depths  of  the  valley,  a  field  in  which  crab-grass  had 
grown  in  the  place  of  the  harvested  wheat  showed  a 
tiny  square  of  palest  yellow,  and  beside  it  a  red  clay 
road,  running  over  a  hill,  was  visible.  Above  all  a 
hawk  was  flying. 

"  Afore  the  winter  fairly  set  in  las'  year,"  Peters 
resumed,  presently,  "a  stray  kem  ter  Tobe's  house. 
He  'lowed  ter  me  ez  he  fund  her  a-standin'  by  the 
fodder-stack  a-pullin'  off'n  it.  An'  he  'quired  round, 
an'  he  never  hearn  o'  no  owner.  I  reckon  he  never 
axed  outside  o'  Lonesome,"  he  added,  cynically. 


150  'WAY  DOWN  IN  LONESOME  COVE 

He  puffed  industriously  at  his  pipe  for  a  few  mo 
ments ;  then  continued:  "  Wa'al,  he  'lowed  he 
couldn't  feed  the  critter  fur  fun.  An'  he  couldn't 
work  her  till  she  war  appraised  an'  sech,  that  bein' 
agin  the  law  fur  strays.  So  he  jes  ondertook  ter  be 
ranger  an'  taker-up  too  —  the  bangedest  consarn  in 
the  kentry !  Ef  the  leetle  mare  hed  been  wall-eyed, 
or  lame,  or  ennything,  he  wouldn't  hev  wanted  ter 
be  ranger  an'  taker-up  too.  But  she  air  the  peartest 
little  beastis — she  war  jes  bridle-wise  when  she  fust 
kem — young  an1  spry  !" 

Luke  Todd  was  about  to  ask  a  question,  but 
Peters,  disregarding  him,  persisted  : 

"  Wa'al,  Tobe  tuk  up  the  beastis,  an'  I  reckon  he 
reported  her  ter  hisself,  bein'  the  ranger — the  critter 
makes  me  laff — an'  he  hed  that  thar  old  haffen-blind 
uncle  o'  his'n  an'  Perkins  Bates,  ez  be  never  sober, 
ter  appraise  the  vally  o'  the  mare,  an'  I  s'pose  he 
delivered  thar  certificate  ter  hisself,  an'  I  reckon  he 
tuk  oath  that  she  kem  'thout  his  procure^/;//  ter  his 
place,  in  the  presence  o'  the  ranger." 

"I  reckon  thar  ain't  no  law  agin  the  ranger's  bein' 
a  ranger  an'  a  taker-up  too,"  put  in  one  of  the  by 
standers.  "'Tain't  like  a  sheriff's  buyin'  at  his  own 
sale.  An'  he  hed  ter  pay  haffen  her  vally  into  the 
treasury  o'  the  county  arter  twelve  months,  ef  the 
owner  never  proved  her  away." 

"Thar  ain't  no  sign  he  ever  paid  a  cent,"  said 
Peters,  with  a  malicious  grin,  pointing  at  the  charred 
remains  of  the  court-house,  "  an'  the  treasurer  air  jes 
dead." 

"  Wa'al,  Tobe  hed  ter  make  a  report  ter  the  jedge 
o'  the  county  court  every  six  months/' 


'WAY   DOWN   IN   LONESOME   COVE  I$I 

"The  papers  of  his  office  air  cinders,"  retorted 
Peters. 

"  Wa'al,  then,"  argued  the  optimist,  "  the  stray- 
book  will  show  ez  she  war  reported  an'  sech." 

"  The  ranger  took  mighty  particular  pains  ter  hev  his 
stray-book  in  that  thar  court-house  when  'twar  burnt." 

There  was  a  long  pause  while  the  party  sat  rumi 
nating  upon  the  suspicions  thus  suggested. 

Luke  Todd  heard  them,  not  without  a  thrill  of 
satisfaction.  He  found  them  easy  to  adopt.  And 
he,  too,  had  a  disposition  to  theorize. 

"  It  takes  a  mighty  mean  man  ter  steal  a  horse," 
he  said.  "  Stealin'  a  horse  air  powerful  close  ter 
murder.  Folkses'  lives  fairly  depend  on  a  horse  ter 
work  thar  corn  an'  sech,  an'  make  a  support  fur  em. 
I  hev  knowed  folks  ter  kem  mighty  close  ter  starvin' 
through  hevin  thar  horse  stole.  Why,  even  that 
thar  leetle  filly  of  our'n,  though  she  hedn't  been 
fairly  bruk  ter  the  plough,  war  mightily  missed. 
We-uns  hed  ter  make  out  with  the  old  sorrel,  ez  air 
nigh  fourteen  year  old,  ter  work  the  crap,  an'  we  war 
powerful  disapp'inted.  But  we  ain't  never  fund  no 
trace  o'  the  filly  sence  she  war  tolled  off  one  night 
las'  fall  a  year  ago." 

The  hawk  floating  above  the  valley  and  its  winged 
shadow  disappeared  together  in  the  dense  glooms  of 
a  deep  gorge.  Luke  Todd  watched  them  as  they 
vanished. 

Suddenly  he  lifted  his  eyes.  They  were  wide  with 
a  new  speculation.  An  angry  flare  blazed  in  them. 
"  What  sort'n  beastis  is  this  hyar  mare  ez  the  ranger 
tuk  up  ?"  he  asked. 

Peters  looked  at  him,  hardly  comprehending  his 


I$2  'WAY   DOWN  IN  LONESOME  COVE 

tremor  of  excitement.  "Seems  sorter  sizable,''  ho 
replied,  sibilantly,  sucking  his  pipe-stem. 

Todd  nodded  meditatively  several  times,  leaning 
his  elbows  on  his  knees,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  land 
scape.  "  Hev  she  got  enny  particular  marks,  ez  ye 
knows  on  ?"  he  drawled. 

"Wa'al,  she  be  ez  black  ez  a  crow,  with  the  nigh 
fore-foot  white.  An'  she  hev  got  a  white  star  spang 
in  the  middle  o'  her  forehead,  an'  the  left  side  o'  her 
nose  is  white  too." 

Todd  rose  suddenly  to  his  feet.  "  By  gum  !"  he 
cried,  with  a  burst  of  passion,  "she  air  my  filly! 
An'  'twar  that  thar  durned  horse-thief  of  a  ranger 
ez  tolled  her  off!" 

Deep  among  the  wooded  spurs  Lonesome  Cove 
nestles,  sequestered  from  the  world.  Naught  emi 
grates  thence  except  an  importunate  stream  that 
forces  its  way  through  a  rocky  gap,  and  so  to  free 
dom  beyond.  No  stranger  intrudes  ;  only  the  moon 
looks  in  once  in  a  while.  The  roaming  wind  may 
explore  its  solitudes  ;  and  it  is  but  the  vertical  sun 
beams  that  strike  to  the  heart  of  the  little  basin,  be 
cause  of  the  massive  mountains  that  wall  it  round  and 
serve  to  isolate  it.  So  nearly  do  they  meet  at  the 
gap  that  one  great  assertive  crag,  beetling  far  above, 
intercepts  the  view  of  the  wide  landscape  beyond, 
leaving  its  substituted  profile  jaggedly  serrating  the 
changing  sky.  Above  it,  when  the  weather  is  fair, 
appear  vague  blue  lines,  distant  mountain  summits, 
cloud  strata,  visions.  Below  its  jutting  verge  may 
be  caught  glimpses  of  the  widening  valley  without. 
But  pre-eminent,  gaunt,  sombre,  it  sternly  dominates 


'WAY   DOWN    IN    LONESOME   COVE  153 

"Lonesome,"  and  is  the  salient  feature  of  the  little 
world  it  limits. 

Tobe  Gryce's  house,  gray,  weather  -  beaten,  moss- 
grown,  had  in  comparison  an  ephemeral,  modern 
aspect.  For  a  hundred  years  its  inmates  had  come 
and  gone  and  lived  and  died.  They  took  no  heed 
of  the  crag,  but  never  a  sound  was  lost  upon  it. 
Their  drawling  iterative  speech  the  iterative  echoes 
conned.  The  ringing  blast  of  a  horn  set  astir  some 
phantom  chase  in  the  air.  When  the  cows  came 
lowing  home,  there  were  lowing  herds  in  viewless 
company.  Even  if  one  of  the  children  sat  on  a 
rotting  log  crooning  a  vague,  fragmentary  ditty, 
some  faint -voiced  spirit  in  the  rock  would  sing. 
Lonesome  Cove  ? — home  of  invisible  throngs  ! 

As  the  ranger  trotted  down  the  winding  road, 
multitudinous  hoof- beats,  as  of  a  troop  of  cavalry, 
heralded  his  approach  to  the  little  girl  who  stood 
on  the  porch  of  the  log-cabin  and  watched  for  him. 

"Hy're,  Gunnel !"  he  cried,  cordially. 

But  the  little  "  Colonel "  took  no  heed.  She  looked 
beyond  him  at  the  vague  blue  mountains,  against 
which  the  great  grim  rock  was  heavily  imposed, 
every  ledge,  every  waving  dead  crisp  weed,  distinct. 

He  noticed  the  smoke  curling  briskly  up  in  the 
sunshine  from  the  clay  and  slick  chimney.  He 
strode  past  her  into  the  house,  as  Eugenia,  with  all 
semblance  of  youth  faded  from  her  countenance, 
haggard  and  hollow-eyed  in  the  morning  light,  was 
hurrying  the  corn-dodgers  and  venison  steak  on  the 
table. 

Perhaps  he  did  not  appreciate  that  the  women 
were  pining  with  curiosity,  for  he  vouchsafed  no 


154  'WAY  DOWN  IN  LONESOME  COVE 

word  of  the  excitements  in  the  little  town  ;  and  he 
himself  was  ill  at  ease. 

"What  ails  the  Gunnel,  'Genie?"  he  asked,  pres 
ently,  glancing  up  sharply  from  under  his  hat  brim, 
and  speaking  with  his  mouth  full. 

"The  cat  'pears  ter  hev  got  her  tongue,"  said 
Eugenia,  intending  that  the  "Golonel"  should  hear, 
and  perhaps  profit.  "She  ain't  able  ter  talk  none 
this  mornin'." 

The  little  body  cast  so  frowning  a  glance  upon 
them  as  she  stood  in  the  doorway  that  her  expres 
sion  was  but  slightly  less  lowering  than  her  father's. 
It  was  an  incongruous  demonstration,  with  her  infan 
tile  features,  her  little  yellow  head,  and  the  slight 
physical  force  she  represented.  She  wore  a  blue 
cotton  frock,  fastened  up  the  back  with  great  horn 
buttons  ;  she  had  on  shoes  laced  with  leather  strings ; 
one  of  her  blue  woollen  stockings  fell  over  her  ankle, 
disclosing  the  pinkest  of  plump  calves;  the  other 
stocking  was  held  in  place  by  an  unabashed  cotton 
string.  She  had  a  light  in  her  dark  eyes  and  a 
color  in  her  cheek,  and  albeit  so  slight  a  thing,  she 
wielded  a  strong  coercion. 

"  Laws-a-massy,  Gunnel !"  said  Tobe,  in  a  harried 
manner,  "couldn't  ye  find  me  nowhar?  I'm  power 
ful  sorry.  I  couldn't  git  back  hyar  no  sooner." 

But  not  in  this  wise  was  she  to  be  placated.  She 
fixed  her  eyes  upon  him,  but  made  no  sign. 

He  suddenly  rose  from  his  half-finished  breakfast. 
"  Look-a-hyar,  Gunnel,"  he  cried,  joyously,  "don't 
ye  want  ter  ride  the  filly  ? — ye  knew  ye  hanker  ter 
ride  the  filly." 

Even  then  she  tried  to  frown,  but  the  bliss  of  the 


'WAY    DOWN    IN    LONESOME   COVE  155 

prospect  overbore  her.  II  ;r  cheek  and  chin  dim 
pled,  and  there  was  a  gurgling  display  of  two  rows 
of  jagged  little  teeth  as  the  doughty  "Colonel"  was 
swung  to  his  shoulder  and  he  stepped  out  of  the 
door. 

He  laughed  as  he  stood  by  the  glossy  black  mare 
and  lifted  the  child  to  the  saddle.  The  animal 
arched  her  neck  and  turned  her  head  and  gazed 
back  at  him  curiously.  "Hold  on  tight,  Gunnel," 
he  said  as  he  looked  up  at  her,  his  face  strangely 
softened  almost  beyond  recognition.  And  she  gur 
gled  and  laughed  and  screamed  with  delight  as  he 
began  to  slowly  lead  the  mare  along. 

The  "Colonel"  had  the  gift  of  continuance. 
Some  time  elapsed  before  she  exhausted  the  joys  of 
exaltation.  More  than  once  she  absolutely  refused 
to  dismount.  Tobe  patiently  led  the  beast  up  and 
down,  and  the  "  Colonel "  rode  in  state.  It  was 
only  when  the  sun  had  grown  high,  and  occasional 
ly  she  was  fain  to  lift  her  chubby  hands  to  her  eyes, 
imperiling  her  safety  on  the  saddle,  that  he  ventured 
to  seriously  remonstrate,  and  finally  she  permitted 
herself  to  be  assisted  to  the  ground.  When,  with 
the  little  girl  at  his  heels,  he  reached  the  porch,  he 
took  off  his  hat,  and  wiped  the  perspiration  from 
his  brow  with  his  great  brown  hand. 

"I  tell  ye,  jouncin'  round  arter  the  Cunnel  air 
powerful  hot  work,"  he  declared. 

The  next  moment  he  paused.  His  wife  had  come 
to  the  door,  and  there  was  a  strange  expression  of 
alarm  among  the  anxious  lines  of  her  face. 

"  Tobe,"  she  said,  in  a  bated  voice,  "  who  war 
them  men?" 


156  'WAY   DOWN    IN    LONESOME   COVE 

He  stared  at  her,  whirled  about,  surveyed  the 
vacant  landscape,  and  once  more  turned  dumfound- 
ed  toward  her.  "What  men?"  he  asked. 

"Them  men  ez  acted  so  cur'ous,"  she  said.  "I 
couldn't  see  thar  faces  plain,  an'  I  dunno  who  they 
war." 

"Whar  war  they?"  And  he  looked  over  his 
shoulder  once  more. 

"Yander  along  the  ledges  of  the  big  rock.  Thar 
war  two  of 'em,  hidin'  ahint  that  thar  jagged  aidge. 
An'  ef  yer  back  war  turned  they'd  peep  out  at  ye 
an'  the  Gunnel  ridin'.  But  whenst  ye  would  face 
round  agin,  they'd  drap  down  ahint  the  aidge  o'  the 
rock.  I  'lowed  wunst  ez  I'd  holler  ter  ye,  but  I  war 
feared  ye  moughtn't  keer  ter  know."  Her  voice 
fell  in  its  deprecatory  cadence. 

He  stood  in  silent  perplexity.  "Ye  air  a  fool, 
'Genie,  an'  ye  never  seen  nuthin'.  Nobody  hev  got 
enny  call  ter  spy  on  me." 

He  stepped  in-doors,  took  -down  his  rifle  from  the 
rack,  and  went  out  frowning  into  the  sunlight. 

The  suggestion  of  mystery  angered  him.  He 
had  a  vague  sense  of  impending  danger.  As  he 
made  his  way  along  the  slope  toward  the  great 
beetling  crag  all  his  faculties  were  on  the  alert. 
He  saw  naught  unusual  when  he  stood  upon  its 
dark-seamed  summit,  and  he  went  cautiously  to  the 
verge  and  looked  down  at  the  many  ledges.  They 
jutted  out  at  irregular  intervals,  the  first  only  six 
feet  below,  and  all  accessible  enough  to  an  expert 
climber.  A  bush  grew  in  a  niche.  An  empty 
nest,  riddled  by  the  wind,  hung  dishevelled  from  a 
twig.  Coarse  withered  grass  tufted  the  crevices. 


'WAY    DOWN    IN    LONESOME   COVE  1 57 

Far  below  he  saw  the  depths  of  the  Cove — the  tops 
of  the  leafless  trees,  and,  glimpsed  through  the  in 
terlacing  boughs,  the  rush  of  a  mountain  rill,  and  a 
white  flash  as  a  sunbeam  slanted  on  the  foam. 

He  was  turning  away,  all  incredulous,  when  with 
a  sudden  start  he  looked  back.  On  one  of  the 
ledges  was  a  slight  depression.  It  was  filled  with 
sand  and  earth.  Imprinted  upon  it  was  the  shape 
of  a  man's  foot.  The  ranger  paused  and  gazed 
fixedly  at  it.  "  Wa'al,  by  the  Lord  !"  he  exclaimed, 
under  his  breath.  Presently,  "  But  they  hev  no 
call!"  he  argued.  Then  once  more,  softly,  "By 
the  Lord  !'' 

The  mystery  baffled  him.  More  than  once  that 
day  he  went  up  to  the  crag  and  stood  and  stared 
futilely  at  the  footprint.  Conjecture  had  license 
and  limitations,  too.  As  the  hours  wore  on  he  be 
came  harassed  by  the  sense  of  espionage.  He  was 
a  bold  man  before  the  foes  he  knew,  but  this  idea 
of  inimical  lurking,  of  furtive  scrutiny  for  unknown 
purposes,  preyed  upon  him.  He  brooded  over  it  as 
he  sat  idle  by  the  fire.  Once  he  went  to  the  door 
and  stared  speculatively  at  the  great  profile  of  the 
cliff.  The  sky  above  it  was  all  a  lustrous  amber, 
for  the  early  sunset  of  the  shortest  days  of  the  year 
was  at  hand.  The  mountains,  seen  partly  above 
and  partly  below  it,  wore  a  glamourous  purple. 
There  were  clouds,  and  from  their  rifts  long  diver 
gent  lines  of  light  slanted  down  upon  the  valley, 
distinct  among  their  shadows.  The  sun  was  not 
visible — only  in  the  western  heavens  was  a  half- 
veiled  effulgence  too  dazzlingly  white  to  be  gazed 
upon.  The  ranger  shaded  his  eyes  with  his  hand. 


158  'WAY   DOWN    IN    LONESOME   COVE 

No  motion,  no  sound  ;  for  the  first  time  in  his  life 
the  unutterable  loneliness  of  the  place  impressed 
him.  , 

"  'Genie,"  he  said,  suddenly,  looking  over  his  shoul 
der  within  the  cabin,  "be  you-uns  sure  ez  they  war  — 


"I  dunno  what  you  mean,"  she  faltered,  her  eyes 
dilated.  "  They  looked  like  folks/' 

"  I  reckon  they  war,"  he  said,  reassuring  himself. 
"The  Lord  knows  I  hope  they  war." 

That  night  the  wind  rose.  The  stars  all  seemed  to 
have  burst  from  their  moorings,  and  were  wildly  adrift 
in  the  sky.  There  was  a  broken  tumult  of  billowy 
clouds,  and  the  moon  tossed  hopelessly  amongst 
them,  a  lunar  wreck,  sometimes  on  her  beam  ends, 
sometimes  half  submerged,  once  more  gallantly 
struggling  to  the  surface,  and  again  sunk.  The 
bare  boughs  of  the  trees  beat  together  in  a  dirge- 
like  monotone.  Now  and  again  a  leaf  went  sibi- 
lantly  whistling  past.  The  wild  commotion  of  the 
heavens  and  earth  was  visible,  for  the  night  was 
not  dark.  The  ranger,  standing  within  the  rude 
stable  of  unhewn  logs,  all  undaubed,  noted  how 
pale  were  the  horizontal  bars  of  gray  light  alternat 
ing  with  the  black  logs  of  the  wall.  He  was  giving 
the  mare  a  feed  of  corn,  but  he  had  not  brought  his 
lantern,  as  was  his  custom.  That  mysterious  es 
pionage  had  in  some  sort  shaken  his  courage,  and 
he  felt  the  obscurity  a  shield.  He  had  brought,  in 
stead,  his  rifle. 

The  equine  form  was  barely  visible  among  the 
glooms.  Now  and  then,  as  the  mare  noisily  munched, 


'WAY   DOWN    IN    LONESOME  COVE  159 

she  lifted  a  hoof  and  struck  it  upon  the  ground 
with  a  dull  thud.  How  the  gusts  outside  were  swirl 
ing  up  the  gorge!  The  pines  swayed  and  sighed. 
Again  the  boughs  of  the  chestnut-oak  above  the 
roof  crashed  together.  Did  a  fitful  blast  stir  the 
door  ? 

He  lifted  his  eyes  mechanically.  A  cold  thrill 
ran  through  every  fibre.  For  there,  close  by  the 
door,  somebody — something — was  peering  through 
the  space  between  the  logs  of  the  wall.  The  face 
was  invisible,  but  the  shape  of  a  man's  head  was 
distinctly  defined.  He  realized  that  it  was  no 
supernatural  manifestation  when  a  husky  voice  be 
gan  to  call  the  mare,  in  a  hoarse  whisper,  "Cobe! 
Cobe  !  Cobe  !"  With  a  galvanic  start  he  was  about 
to  spring  forward  to  hold  the  door.  A  hand  from 
without  was  laid  upon  it. 

He  placed  the  muzzle  of  his  gun  between  the 
logs,  a  jet  of  red  light  was  suddenly  projected  into 
the  darkness,  the  mare  was  rearing  and  plunging 
violently,  the  little  shanty  was  surcharged  with  roar 
and  reverberation,  and  far  and  wide  the  crags  and 
chasms  echoed  the  report  of  the  rifle. 

There  was  a  vague  clamor  outside,  an  oath,  a  cry 
of  pain.  Hasty  footfalls  sounded  among  the  dead 
leaves  and  died  in  the  distance. 

When  the  ranger  ventured  out  he  saw  the  door  of 
his  house  wide  open,  and  the  firelight  flickering  out 
among  the  leafless  bushes.  His  wife  met  him  half 
way  down  the  hill. 

"  Air  ye  hurt,  Tobe  ?"  she  cried.  "  Did  yer  gun 
go  offsuddint  ?" 

"  Mighty  suddint,"  he  replied,  savagely. 


160  'WAY  DOWN  IN  LONESOME  COVE 

"Ye  didn't  fire  it  a-purpose  ?"  she  faltered. 

"  Edzactly  so,"  he  declared. 

"  Ye  never  hurt  nobody,  did  ye,  Tobe  ?"  She  had 
turned  very  pale.  "I  'lowed  it  couldn't  be  the  wind 
ez  I  hearn  a-hollerin'." 

"I  hopes  an'  prays  I  hurt  'em,"  he  said,  as  he  re 
placed  the  rifle  in  the  rack.  He  was  shaking  the 
other  hand,  which  had  been  jarred  in  some  way  by 
the  hasty  discharge  of  the  weapon.  "  Some  dad- 
burned  horse-thief  war  arter  the  mare.  Jedgin'  from 
the  sound  o'  thar  runnin',  'peared  like  to  me  ez  thar 
mought  be  two  o'  'em." 

The  next  day  the  mare  disappeared  from  the 
stable.  Yet  she  could  not  be  far  off,  for  Tobe  was 
about  the  house  most  of  the  time,  and  when  he  and 
the  "Colonel"  came  in -doors  in  the  evening  the 
little  girl  held  in  her  hand  a  half-munched  ear  of 
corn,  evidently  abstracted  from  the  mare's  supper. 

"Whar  be  the  filly  hid,  Tobe?"  Eugenia  asked, 
curiosity  overpowering  her. 

"Ax  me  no  questions  an'  I'll  tell  ye  no  lies,"  he 
replied,  gruffly. 

In  the  morning  there  was  a  fall  of  snow,  and  she 
had  some  doubt  whether  her  mother,  who  had  gone 
several  days  before  to  a  neighbor's  on  the  summit  of 
the  range,  would  return  ;  but  presently  the  creak  of 
unoiled  axles  heralded  the  approach  of  a  wagon,  an'd 
soon  the  old  woman,  bundled  in  shawls,  was  sitting 
by  the  fire.  She  wore  heavy  woollen  socks  over  her 
shoes  as  protection  against  the  snow.  The  incom 
patibility  of  the  shape  of  the  hose  with  the  human 
foot  was  rather  marked,  and  as  they  were  somewhat 
inelastic  as  well,  there  was  a  muscular  struggle  to 


'WAY   DOWN   IN    LONESOME   COVE  l6l 

get  them  off  only  exceeded  by  the  effort  which  had 
been  required  to  get  them  on.  She  shook  her  head 
again  and  again,  with  a  red  face,  as  she  bent  over 
the  socks,  but  plainly  more  than  this  discomfort 
vexed  her. 

"Laws-a-massy,  'Genie  !  I  hearn  a  awful  tale  over 
yander  'mongst  them  Jenkins  folks.  Ye  oughter  hev 
married  Luke  Todd,  an'  so  I  tole  ye  an'  fairly  be 
set  ye  ter  do  ten  year  ago.  He  keered  fur  ye.  An' 
Tobe — shucks  !  Wa'al,  laws-a-massy,  child  !  I  hearn 
a  awful  tale  'bout  Tobe  up  yander  at  Jenkinses'." 

Eugenia  colored. 

"  Folks  hed  better  take  keer  how  they  talk  'bout 
Tobe,"  she  said,  with  a  touch  of  pride.  "They  be 
powerful  keerful  ter  do  it  out'n-rifle  range." 

With  one  more  mighty  tug  the  sock  came  off,  the 
red  face  was  lifted,  and  Mrs.  Pearce  shook  her  head 
ruefully. 

"  The  Bible  say  '  words  air  foolishness.'  Ye  dun- 
no  what  ye  air  talkin'  'bout,  child." 

With  this  melancholy  preamble  she  detailed  the 
gossip  that  had  arisen  at  the  county  town  and  per 
vaded  the  country-side.  Eugenia  commented,  de 
nied,  flashed  into  rage,  then  lapsed  into  silence. 
Although  it  did  not  constrain  credulity,  there  was 
something  that  made  her  afraid  when  her  mother 
said  : 

"Ye  hed  better  not  be  talkin'  'bout  rifle  range 
so  brash,  'Genie,  nohows.  They  'lowed  ez  Luke 
Todd  an'  Sam  Peters  kem  hyar — 'twar  jes  night  be 
fore  las'  —  aimin'  ter  take  the  mare  away  'thout  no 
words  an'  no  lawin',  'kase  they  didn't  want  ter  wait. 
Luke  hed  got  a  chance  ter  view  the  mare,  an'  knowed 


1 62  'WAY  DOWN  IN  LONESOME  COVE 

ez  she  war  his'n.  An'  Tobe  war  hid  in  the  dark  be 
side  the  mare,  an'  fired  at  'em,  an'  the  rifle-ball  tuk 
Sam  right  through  the  beam  o'  his  arm.  I  reck 
on,  though,  ez  that  warn't  true,  else  ye  would  hev 
knowed  it." 

She  looked  up  anxiously  over  her  spectacles  at 
her  daughter. 

"  I  hearn  Tobe  shoot,"  faltered  Eugenia.  "  I  seen 
blood  on  the  leaves." 

"  Laws-a-massy !"  exclaimed  the  old  woman,  irri 
tably.  "  I  be  fairly  feared  ter  bide  hyar  ;  'twould  n't 
s'prise  me  none  ef  they  kem  hyar  an'  hauled  Tobe 
out  an'  lynched  him  an'  sech,  an'  who  knows  who 
mought  git  hurt  in  the  scrimmage?" 

They  both  fell  silent  as  the  ranger  strode  in. 
They  would  need  a  braver  heart  than  either  bore  to 
reveal  to  him  the  suspicions  of  horse -stealing  sown 
broadcast  over  the  mountain.  Eugenia  felt  that 
this  in  itself  was  coercive  evidence  of  his  innocence. 
Who  dared  so  much  as  say  a  word  to  his  face  ? 

The  weight  of  the  secret  asserted  itself,  however. 
As  she  went  about  her  accustomed  tasks,  all  bereft 
of  their  wonted  interest,  vapid  and  burdensome,  she 
carried  so  woe-begone  a  face  that  it  caught  his  at 
tention,  and  he  demanded,  angrily, 

"  What  ails  ye  ter  look  so  durned  peaked  ?" 

This  did  not  abide  long  in  his  memory,  however, 
and  it  cost  her  a  pang  to  see  him  so  unconscious. 

She  went  out  upon  the  porch  late  that  afternoon 
to  judge  of  the  weather.  Snow  was  falling  again. 
The  distant  summits  had  disappeared.  The  moun 
tains  near  at  hand  loomed  through  the  myriads  of 
serried  white  flakes.  A  crow  flew  across  the  Cove 


'WAY   DOWN   IN   LONESOME  COVE  163 

in  its  midst.  It  heavily  thatched  the  cabin,  and 
tufts  dislodged  by  the  opening  of  the  door  fell  down 
upon  her  hair.  Drifts  lay  about  the  porch.  Each 
rail  of  the  fence  was  laden.  The  ground,  the  rocks, 
were  deeply  covered.  She  reflected  with  satisfaction 
that  the  red  splotch  of  blood  on  the  dead  leaves  was 
no  longer  visible.  Then  a  sudden  idea  struck  her 
that  took  her  breath  away.  She  came  in,  her  cheeks 
flushed,  her  eyes  bright,  with  an  excited  dubitation. 

Her  husband  commented  on  the  change.  "  Ye 
air  a  powerful  cur'ous  critter,  'Genie,"  he  said:  "a 
while  ago  ye  looked  some  fower  or  five  hundred 
year  old  —  now  ye  favors  yerself  when  I  fust  kern 
a-courtin'  round  the  settlemint." 

She  hardly  knew  whether  the  dull  stir  in  her  heart 
were  pleasure  or  pain.  Her  eyes  filled  with  tears, 
and  the  irradiated  iris  shone  through  them  with  a 
liquid  lustre.  She  could  not  speak. 

Her  mother  took  ephemeral  advantage  of  his 
softening  mood.  "  Ye  useter  be  mighty  perlite  and 
saaft-spoken  in  them  days,  Tobe,"  she  ventured. 

"I  hed  ter  be."  he  admitted,  frankly,  "  'kase  thar 
war  sech  a  many  o'  them  mealy-mouthed  cusses  a- 
waitin'  on  'Genie.  The  kentry  'peared  ter  me  ter 
bristle  with  Luke  Todd  ;  he  'minded  me  o'  brum- 
saidge — everywhar  ye  seen  his  yaller  head,  ez  homely 
an'  ez  onwelcome." 

"  I  never  wunst  gin  Luke  a  thought  arter  ye  tuk 
ter  comin'  round  the  settlemint,"  Eugenia  said,  softly. 

"  I  wisht  I  hed  knowed  that  then,"  he  replied  ; 
"else  I  wouldn't  hev  been  so  all-fired  oneasy  an' 
beset.  I  wasted  mo'  time  a-studyin'  'bout  ye  an' 
Luke  Todd  'n  ye  war  both  wuth,  an'  went  'thout 


164  'WAY   DOWN   IN    LONESOME   COVE 

my  vittles  an'  sot  up  o'  nights.  Ef  I  bed  spent  that 
time  a-moanin'  fur  my  sins  an'  settin'  my  soul  at 
peace,  I'd  be  'quirin'  roun'  the  throne  o'  Grace  now  ! 
Young  folks  air  powerful  fursaken  fools." 

Somehow  her  heart  was  warmer  for  this  allusion. 
She  was  more  hopeful.  Her  resolve  grew  stronger 
and  stronger  as  she  sat  and  knitted,  and  looked  at 
the  fire  and  saw  among  the  coals  all  her  old  life  at 
the  settlement  newly  aglow.  She  was  remembering 
now  that  Luke  Todd  had  been  as  wax  in  her  hands. 
She  recalled  that  when  she  was  married  there  was  a 
gleeful  "sayin'"  going  the  rounds  of  the  mountain 
that  he  had  taken  to  the  woods  with  grief,  and  he  was 
heard  of  no  more  for  weeks.  The  gossips  relished 
his  despair  as  the  corollary  of  the  happy  bridal.  He 
had  had  no  reproaches  for  her.  He  had  only  looked 
the  other  way  when  they  met,  and  she  had  not  spo 
ken  to  him  since. 

"He  set  store  by  my  word  in  them  days,"  she 
said  to  herself,  her  lips  vaguely  moving.  "  I  mis 
doubts  ef  he  hev  furgot." 

All  through  the  long  hours  of  the  winter  night  she 
silently  canvassed  her  plan.  The  house  was  still 
noiseless  and  dark  when  she  softly  opened  the  door 
and  softly  closed  it  behind  her. 

It  had  ceased  to  snow,  and  the  sky  had  cleared. 
The  trees,  all  the  limbs  whitened,  were  outlined  dis 
tinctly  upon  it,  and  through  the  boughs  overhead  a 
brilliant  star,  aloof  and  splendid,  looked  coldly  down. 
Along  dark  spaces  Orion  had  drawn  his  glittering 
blade.  Above  the  snowy  mountains  a  melancholy 
waning  moon  was  swinging.  The  valley  was  full  of 
mist,  white  and  shining  where  the  light  fell  upon  it, 


'WAY   DOWN    IN    LONESOME  COVE  165 

a  vaporous  purple  where  the  shadows  held  sway. 
So  still  it  was !  the  only  motion  in  all  the  world  the 
throbbing  stars  and  her  palpitating  heart.  So  sol 
emnly  silent!  It  was  a  relief,  as  she  trudged  on 
and  on,  to  note  a  gradual  change  ;  to  watch  the  sky 
withdraw,  seeming  fainter ;  to  see  the  moon  grow 
filmy,  like  some  figment  of  the  frost;  to  mark  the 
gray  mist  steal  on  apace,  wrap  mountain,  valley, 
and  heaven  with  mystic  folds,  shut  out  all  vision  of 
things  familiar.  Through  it  only  the  sense  of  dawn 
could  creep. 

She  recognized  the  locality  ;  her  breath  was  short ; 
her  step  quickened.  She  appeared,  like  an  appari 
tion  out  of  the  mists,  close  to  a  fence,  and  peered 
through  the  snow -laden  rails.  A  sudden  pang 
pierced  her  heart. 

For  there,  within  the  enclosure,  milking  the  cow, 
she  saw,  all  blooming  in  the  snow — herself;  the 
azalea-like  girl  she  had  been ! 

She  had  not  known  how  dear  to  her  was  that 
bright  young  identity  she  remembered.  She  had 
not  realized  how  far  it  had  gone  from  her.  She 
felt  a  forlorn  changeling  looking  upon  her  own  es 
tranged  estate. 

A  faint  cry  escaped  her. 

The  cow,  with  lifted  head  and  a  muttered  low  of 
surprise,  moved  out  of  reach  of  the  milker,  who, 
half  kneeling  upon  the  ground,  stared  with  wide 
blue  eyes  at  her  ghost  in  the  mist. 

There  was  a  pause.  It  was  only  a  moment  be 
fore  Eugenia  spoke ;  it  seemed  years,  so  charged 
it  was  with  retrospect. 


1 66  'WAY  DOWN  IN  LONESOME  COVE 

"  I  kem  over  hyar  ter  hev  a  word  with  ye,"  she  said. 

At  the  sound  of  a  human  voice  Luke  Todd's  wife 
struggled  to  her  feet.  She  held  the  piggin  with  one 
arm  encircled  about  it,  and  with  the  other  hand  she 
clutched  the  plaid  shawl  around  her  throat.  Her 
bright  hair  was  tossed  by  the  rising  wind. 

"  I  'lowed  I'd  find  ye  hyar  a-milkin'  'bout  now." 

The  homely  allusion  reassured  the  younger 
woman. 

"  I  hev  ter  begin  tolerable  early,"  she  said.  "  Spot 
gins  'bout  a  gallon  a  milkin'  now." 

Spot's  calf,  which  subsisted  on  what  was  left 
over,  seemed  to  find  it  cruel  that  delay  should  be 
added  to  his  hardships,  and  he  lifted  up  his  voice 
in  a  plaintive  remonstrance.  This  reminded  Mrs. 
Todd  of  his  existence ,  she  turned  and  let  down 
the  bars  that  served  to  exclude  him. 

The  stranger  was  staring  at  her  very  hard.  Some 
how  she  quailed  under  that  look.  Though  it  was 
fixed  upon  her  in  unvarying  intensity,  it  had  a 
strange  impersonality.  This  woman  was  not  see 
ing  her,  despite  that  wide,  wistful,  yearning  gaze  ; 
she  was  thinking  of  something  else,  seeing  some 
one  else. 

And  suddenly  Luke  Todd's  wife  began  to  stare 
at  the  visitor  very  hard,  and  to  think  of  something 
that  was  not  before  her. 

"  I  be  the  ranger's  wife,"  said  Eugenia.  "  I  kem 
over  hyar  ter  tell  ye  he  never  tuk  yer  black  mare 
nowise  but  honest,  bein'  the  ranger." 

She  found  it  difficult  to  say  more.  Under  that 
speculative,  unseeing  look  she  too  faltered. 

"  They  tell  me  ez  Luke  Todd  air  powerful  outed 


'WAY  DOWN    IN    LONESOME  COVE  167 

'bout'n  it.  An'  I  'lowed  ef  he  knowed  from  me  ez 
'twar  tuk  fair,  he'd  b'lieve  me." 

She  hesitated.  Her  courage  was  flagging ;  her 
hope  had  fled.  The  eyes  of  the  man's  wife  burned 
upon  her  face. 

"  We-uns  useter  be  toler'ble  well  'quainted  'fore 
he  ever  seen  ye,  an'  I  'lowed  he'd  b'lieve  my  word," 
Eugenia  continued. 

Another  silence.  The  sun  was  rising  ;  long  li 
quescent  lines  of  light  of  purest  amber-color  were 
streaming  through  the  snowy  woods  ;  the  shadows 
of  the  fence  rails  alternated  with  bars  of  dazzling 
glister;  elusive  prismatic  gleams  of  rose  and  lilac 
and  blue  shimmered  on  every  slope — thus  the 
winter  flowered.  Tiny  snow-birds  were  hopping 
about ;  a  great  dog  came  down  from  the  little  snow- 
thatched  cabin,  and  was  stretching  himself  elasti- 
cally  and  yawning  most  portentously. 

"  An'  I  'lowed  I'd  see  ye  an'  git  you-uns  ter  tell 
him  that  word  from  me,  an'  then  he'd  b'lieve  it," 
said  Eugenia. 

The  younger  woman  nodded  mechanically,  still 
gazing  at  her. 

And  was  this  her  mission  !  Somehow  it  had  lost 
its  urgency.  Where  was  its  potency,  her  enthusi 
asm  ?  Eugenia  realized  that  her  feet  were  wet,  her 
skirts  draggled ;  that  she  was  chilled  to  the  bone 
and  trembling  violently.  She  looked  about  her 
doubtfully.  Then  her  eyes  came  back  to  the  face 
of  the  woman  before  her. 

"  Yell  tell  him,  I  s'pose  ?" 

Once  more  Luke  Todd's  wife  nodded  mechani 
cally,  still  staring. 


168  'WAY  DOWN  IN  LONESOME  COVE 

There  was  nothing  further  to  be  said.  A  vacant 
interval  ensued.  Then,  "I  'lowed  I'd  tell  ye,"  Eu 
genia  reiterated,  vaguely,  and  turned  away,  vanish 
ing  with  the  vanishing  mists. 

Luke  Todd's  wife  stood  gazing  at  the  fence 
through  which  the  apparition  had  peered.  She 
could  see  yet  her  own  face  there,  grown  old  and 
worn.  The  dog  wagged  his  tail  and  pressed  against 
her,  looking  up  and  claiming  her  notice.  Once 
more  he  stretched  himself  elastically  and  yawned 
widely,  with  shrill  variations  of  tone.  The  calf  was 
frisking  about  in  awkward  bovine  elation,  and  now 
and  then  the  cow  affectionately  licked  its  coat  with 
the  air  of  making  its  toilet.  An  assertive  chanti 
cleer  was  proclaiming  the  dawn  within  the  hen 
house,  whence  came  too  an  impatient  clamor,  for  the 
door,  which  served  to  exclude  any  marauding  fox, 
was  still  closed  upon  the  imprisoned  poultry.  Still 
she  looked  steadily  at  the  fence  where  the  ranger's 
wife  had  stood. 

"  That  thar  woman  favors  me,"  she  said,  pres 
ently.  And  suddenly  she  burst  into  tears. 

Perhaps  it  was  well  that  Eugenia  could  not  see 
Luke  Todd's  expression  as  his  wife  recounted  the 
scene.  She  gave  it  truly,  but  without,  alas !  the 
glamour  of  sympathy. 

"  She  'lowed  ez  ye'd  b'lieve  her,  bein'  ez  ye  use- 
ter  be  'quainted." 

His  face  flushed.  "  Wa'al,  sir!  the  insurance  o1 
that  thar  woman  !"  he  exclaimed.  "  I  war  'quainted 
with  her;  I  war  mighty  well  'quainted  with  her." 
He  had  a  casual  remembrance  of  those  days  when 
"  he  tuk  ter  the  woods  ter  wear  out  his  grief." 


'WAY   DOWN   IN   LONESOME  COVE  169 

"  She  never  gin  me  no  promise,  but  me  an'  her  war 
courtin'  some.  Sech  dependence  ez  I  put  on  her 
war  mightily  wasted.  I  dunno  what  ails  the  critter 
ter  'low  ez  I  set  store  by  her  word." 

Poor  Eugenia  !  There  is  nothing  so  dead  as 
ashes.  His  flame  had  clean  burned  out.  So  far 
afield  were  all  his  thoughts  that  he  stood  amazed 
when  his  wife,  with  a  sudden  burst  of  tears,  de 
clared  passionately  that  she  knew  it — she  saw  it — 
she  favored  Eugenia  Gryce.  She  had  found  out 
that  he  had  married  her  because  she  looked  like 
another  woman. 

"  'Genie  Gryce  hev  got  powerful  little  ter  do  ter 
kem  a-jouncin'  through  the  snow  over  hyar  ter  try 
ter  set  ye  an'  me  agin  one  another,"  he  exclaimed, 
angrily.  "  Stealin'  the  filly  ain't  enough  ter  sati'fy 
her!" 

His  wife  was  in  some  sort  mollified.  She  sought 
to  reassure  herself. 

"  Air  we-uns  of  a  favor  ?" 

"  I  dunno,"  he  replied,  sulkily.  "  I  'ain't  seen 
the  critter  fur  nigh  on  ter  ten  year.  I  hev  furgot 
the  looks  of  her.  'Pears  like  ter  me,"  he  went  on, 
ruminating,  "ez  'twar  in  my  mind  when  I  fust  seen 
ye  ez  thar  war  a  favor  'twixt  ye.  But  I  misdoubts 
now.  Do  she  'low  ez  I  hev  hed  nuthin  ter  study 
'bout  sence  ?" 

Perhaps  Eugenia  is  not  the  only  woman  who 
overrates  the  strength  of  a  sentimental  attachment. 
A  gloomy  intuition  of  failure  kept  her  company  all 
the  lengthening  way  home.  The  chill  splendors  of 
the  wintry  day  grated  upon  her  dreary  mood.  How 
should  she  care  for  the  depth  and  richness  of  the 


1 70  'WAY   DOWN  JN    LONESOME   COVE 

blue  deepening  toward  the  zenith  in  those  vast 
skies?  What  was  it  to  her  that  the  dead  vines, 
climbing  the  grim  rugged  crags,  were  laden  with 
tufts  and  corollated  shapes  wherever  these  fantasies 
of  flowers  might  cling,  or  that  the  snow  flashed  with 
crystalline  scintillations  ?  She  only  knew  that  they 
glimmered  and  dazzled  upon  the  tears  in  her  eyes, 
and  she  was  moved  to  shed  them  afresh.  She  did 
not  wonder  whether  her  venture  had  resulted  amiss. 
She  only  wondered  that  she  had  tried  aught.  And 
she  was  humbled. 

When  she  reached  Lonesome  Cove  she  found  the 
piggin  where  she  had  hid  it,  and  milked  the  cow 
in  haste.  It  was  no  great  task,  for  the  animal  was 
going  dry.  "  Their'n  gins  a  gallon  a  milkin',"  she 
said,  in  rueful  comparison. 

As  she  came  up  the  slope  with  the  piggin  on  her 
head,  her  husband  was  looking  down  from  the 
porch  with  a  lowering  brow.  "  Why  n't  ye  spen' 
the  day  a-milkin'  the  cow  ?"  he  drawled.  "  Dawdlin' 
yander  in  the  cow-pen  till  this  time  in  the  mornin' ! 
An'  ter-morrer's  Chrismus  !" 

The  word  smote  upon  her  weary  heart  with  a 
dull  pain.  She  had  no  cultured  phrase  to  char 
acterize  the  sensation  as  a  presentiment,  but  she 
was  conscious  of  the  prophetic  process.  To-night 
"  all  the  mounting  "  would  be  riotous  with  that  du 
bious  hilarity  known  as  "  Chrismus  in  the  bones," 
and  there  was  no  telling  what  might  come  from  the 
combined  orgy  and  an  inflamed  public  spirit. 

She  remembered  the  familiar  doom  of  the  moun 
tain  horse-thief,  the  men  lurking  on  the  cliff,  the 
inimical  feeling  against  the  ranger.  She  furtively 


'WAY   DOWN   IN   LONESOME  COVE  171 

watched  him  with  forebodings  as  he  came  and  went 
at  intervals  throughout  the  day. 

Dusk  had  fallen  when  he  suddenly  looked  in  and 
beckoned  to  the  "  Colonel,"  who  required  him  to 
take  her  with  him  whenever  he  fed  the  mare. 

"  Let  me  tie  this  hyar  comforter  over  the  Gunnel's 
head,"  Eugenia  said,  as  he  bundled  the  child  in 
a  shawl  and  lifted  her  in  his  arms. 

"'Tain't  no  use,"  he  declared.  "  The  Gunnel 
ain't  travellin'  fur." 

She  heard  him  step  from  the  creaking  porch. 
She  heard  the  dreary  wind  without. 

Within,  the  clumsy  shadows  of  the  warping -bars, 
the  spinning-wheel,  and  the  churn  were  dancing  in 
the  firelight  on  the  wall.  The  supper  was  cooking 
on  the  live  coals.  The  children,  popping  corn  in 
the  ashes,  were  laughing ;  as  her  eye  fell  upon  the 
"  Colonel's"  vacant  little  chair  her  mind  returned 
to  the  child's  excursion  with  her  father,  and  again 
she  wondered  futilely  where  the  mare  could  be  hid. 
The  next  moment  she  was  heartily  glad  that  she  did 
not  know. 

It  was  like  the  fulfillment  of  some  dreadful  dream 
when  the  door  opened.  A  man  entered  softly, 
slowly  ;  the  flickering  fire  showed  his  shadow — was 
it  ? — nay,  another  man,  and  still  another,  and  another. 

The  old  crone  in  the  corner  sprang  up,  screaming 
in  a  shrill,  tremulous,  cracked  voice.  For  they  were 
masked.  Over  the  face  of  each  dangled  a  bit  of 
homespun,  with  great  empty  sockets  through  which 
eyes  vaguely  glanced.  Even  the  coarse  fibre  of  the 
intruders  responded  to  that  quavering,  thrilling  ap 
peal.  One  spoke  instantly : 


172  WAY   DOWN   IN   LONESOME   COVE 

"  Laws-a-massy !  Mis'  Pearce,  don't  ye  feel  inter 
rupted  none — nor  Mis'  Gryce  nuther.  \Ve-uns  ain't 
harmful  noways — jes  want  ter  know  whar  that  thar 
black  mare  hev  disappeared  to.  She  ain't  in  the 
barn." 

He  turned  his  great  eye-sockets  on  Eugenia. 
The  plaid  homespun  mask  dangling  about  his  face 
was  grotesquely  incongruous  with  his  intent,  serious 
gaze. 

"  I  dunno,"  she  faltered  ;  "  I  dunno." 

She  had  caught  at  the  spinning-wheel  for  support. 
The  fire  crackled.  The  baby  was  counting  aloud 
the  grains  of  corn  popping  from  the  ashes.  "  Six, 
two,  free,"  he  babbled.  The  kettle  merrily  sang. 

The  man  still  stared  silently  at  the  ranger's  wife. 
The  expression  in  his  eyes  changed  suddenly.  He 
chuckled  derisively.  The  others  echoed  his  mock 
ing  mirth.  "Ha!  ha!  ha!"  they  laughed  aloud; 
and  the  eye-sockets  in  the  homespun  masks  all 
glared  significantly  at  each  other.  Even  the  dog 
detected  something  sinister  in  this  laughter.  He 
had  been  sniffing  about  the  heels  of  the  strangers  ; 
he  bristled  now,  showed  his  teeth,  and  growled.  The 
spokesman  hastily  kicked  him  in  the  ribs,  and  the 
animal  fled  yelping  to  the  farther  side  of  the  fire 
place  behind  the  baby,  where  he  stood  and  barked 
defiance.  The  rafters  rang  with  the  sound. 

Some  one  on  the  porch  without  spoke  to  the  leader 
in  a  low  voice.  This  man,  who  seemed  to  have  a 
desire  to  conceal  his  identity  which  could  not  be 
served  by  a  mask,  held  the  door  with  one  hand  that 
the  wind  might  not  blow  it  wide  open.  The  draught 
fanned  the  fire.  Once  the  great  bowing,  waving 


'WAY   DOWN   IN   LONESOME  COVE  173 

white  blaze  sent  a  long,  quivering  line  of  light 
through  the  narrow  aperture,  and  Eugenia  saw  the 
dark  lurking  figure  outside.  He  had  one  arm  in 
a  sling.  She  needed  no  confirmation  to  assure  her 
that  this  was  Sam  Peters,  whom  her  husband  had 
shot  at  the  stable  door. 

The  leader  instantly  accepted  his  suggestion. 
"Wa'al,  Mis'  Gryce,  I  reckon  ye  dunno  whar  Tobe 
be,  nuther?" 

"  Naw,  I  dunno,"  she  said,  in  a  tremor. 

The  homespun  mask  swayed  with  the  distortions 
of  his  face  as  he  sneered  : 

"Ye  mean  ter  say  ye  don't  'low  ter  tell  us.n 

"I  dunno  whar  he  be."  Her  voice  had  sunk  to 
a  whisper. 

Another  exchange  of  glances. 

"Wa'al,  ma'am,  jes  gin  us  the  favor  of  a  light  by 
yer  fire,  an'  we-uns  '11  find  him." 

He  stepped  swiftly  forward,  thrust  a  pine  torch 
into  the  coals,  and  with  it  all  whitely  flaring  ran  out 
into  the  night ;  the  others  followed  his  example  ; 
and  the  terror-stricken  women,  hastily  barring  up 
the  door,  peered  after  them  through  the  little  batten 
shutter  of  the  window. 

The  torches  were  already  scattered  about  the 
slopes  of  Lonesome  Cove  like  a  fallen  constellation. 
What  shafts  of  white  light  they  cast  upon  the  snow 
in  the  midst  of  the  dense  blackness  of  the  night ! 
Somehow  they  seemed  endowed  with  volition,  as 
they  moved  hither  and  thither,  for  their  brilliancy 
almost  cancelled  the  figures  of  the  men  that  bore 
them — only  an  occasional  erratic  shapeless  shadow 


174  WAY   DOWN   IN   LONESOME   COVE 

was  visible.  Now  and  then  a  flare  pierced  the  icicle- 
tipped  holly  bushes,  and  again  there  was  a  fibrous 
glimmer  in  the  fringed  pines. 

The  search  was  terribly  silent.  The  snow  dead 
ened  the  tread.  Only  the  wind  was  loud  among  the 
muffled  trees,  and  sometimes  a  dull  thud  sounded 
when  the  weight  of  snow  fell  from  the  evergreen 
laurel  as  the  men  thrashed  through  its  dense  growth. 
They  separated  after  a  time,  and  only  here  and 
there  an  isolated  stellular  light  illumined  the  snow, 
and  conjured  white  mystic  circles  into  the  wide 
spaces  of  the  darkness.  The  effort  flagged  at  last, 
and  its  futility  sharpened  the  sense  of  injury  in  Luke 
Todd's  heart. 

He  was  alone  now,  close  upon  the  great  rock,  and 
looking  at  its  jagged  ledges  all  cloaked  with  snow. 
Above  those  soft  white  outlines  drawn  against  the 
deep  clear  sky  the  frosty  stars  scintillated.  Beneath 
were  the  abysmal  depths  of  the  valley  masked  by  the 
darkness. 

His  pride  was  touched.  In  the  old  quarrel  his 
revenge  had  been  hampered,  for  it  was  the  girl's 
privilege  to  choose,  and  she  had  chosen.  He  cared 
nothing  for  that  now,  but  he  felt  it  indeed  a  reproach 
to  tamely  let  this  man  take  his  horse  when  he  had 
all  the  mountain  at  his  back.  There  was  a  sharp 
humiliation  in  his  position.  He  felt  the  pressure  of 
public  opinion. 

"  Dad-burn  him  !"  he  exclaimed.  "  Ef  I  kin  make 
out  ter  git  a  glimge  o'  him,  I'll  shoot  him  dead- 
dead  !" 

He  leaned  the  rifle  against  the  rock.  It  struck 
upon  a  ledge.  A  metallic  vibration  rang  out.  Again 


'WAY  DOWN   IN   LONESOME   COVE  175 

and  again  the  sound  was  repeated  —  now  loud,  still 
clanging ;  now  faint,  but  clear ;  now  soft  and  away 
to  a  doubtful  murmur  which  he  hardly  was  sure  that 
he  heard.  Never  before  had  he  known  such  an  echo. 
And  suddenly  he  recollected  that  this  was  the  great 
"  Talking  Rock,"  famed  beyond  the  limits  of  Lone 
some.  It  had  traditions  as  well  as  echoes.  He  re 
membered  vaguely  that  beneath  this  cliff  there  was 
said  to  be  a  cave  which  was  utilized  in  the  manufact 
ure  of  saltpetre  for  gunpowder  in  the  War  of  1812. 

As  he  looked  down  the  slope  below  he  thought 
the  snow  seemed  broken  —  by  footprints,  was  it? 
With  the  expectation  of  a  discovery  strong  upon 
him,  he  crept  along  a  wide  ledge  of  the  crag,  now 
and  then  stumbling  and  sending  an  avalanche  of 
snow  and  ice  and  stones  thundering  to  the  foot  of 
the  cliff.  He  missed  his  way  more  than  once.  Then 
he  would  turn  about,  laboriously  retracing  his  steps, 
and  try  another  level  of  the  ledges.  Suddenly  be 
fore  him  was  the  dark  opening  he  sought.  No., 
creature  had  lately  been  here.  It  was  filled  with 
growing  bushes  and  dead  leaves  and  brambles. 
Looking  again  down  upon  the  slope  beneath,  he  felt 
very  sure  that  he  saw  footprints. 

"The  old  folks  useter  'low  ez  thar  war  two  open 
ings  ter  this  hyar  cave,"  he  said.  "  Tobe  Gryce 
mought  hev  hid  hyar  through  a  opening  down  yan- 
der  on  the  slope.  But  /'//  go  the  way  ez  I  hev 
hearn  tell  on,  an'  peek  in,  an'  ef  I  kin  git  a  glimge 
o*  him,  I'll  make  him  tell  me  whar  that  thar  filly  air, 
or  I'll  let  daylight  through  him,  sure !" 

He  paused  only  to  bend  aside  the  brambles,  then 
he  crept  in  and  took  his  way  along  a  low,  narrow 


176  'WAY  DOWN  IN  LONESOME  COVE 

passage.  It  had  many  windings,  but  was  without 
intersections  or  intricacy.  He  heard  his  own  steps 
echoed  like  a  pursuing  footfall.  His  labored  breath 
ing  returned  in  sighs  from  the  inanimate  rocks.  It 
was  an  uncanny  place,  with  strange,  sepulchral,  sol 
emn  effects.  He  shivered  with  the  cold.  A  draught 
stole  in  from  some  secret  crevice  known  only  to  the 
wild  mountain  winds.  The  torch  flared,  crouched  be 
fore  the  gust,  flared  again,  then  darkness.  He  hesi 
tated,  took  one  step  forward,  and  suddenly — a  miracle ! 

A  soft  aureola  with  gleaming  radiations,  a  low, 
shadowy  chamber,  a  beast  feeding  from  a  manger, 
and  within  it  a  child's  golden  head. 

His  heart  gave  a  great  throb.  Somehow  he  was 
smitten  to  his  knees.  Christmas  Eve  !  He  remem 
bered  the  day  with  a  rush  of  emotion.  He  stared 
again  at  the  vouchsafed  vision.  He  rubbed  his  eyes. 
It  had  changed. 

Only  hallucination  caused  by  an  abrupt  transition 
.from  darkness  to  light;  only  the  most  mundane  facts 
of  the  old  troughs  and  ash-hoppers,  relics  of  the  in 
dustry  that  had  served  the  hideous  carnage  of  battle  ; 
only  the  yellow  head  of  the  ranger's  brat,  who  had 
climbed  into  one  of  them,  from  which  the  mare  was 
calmly  munching  her  corn. 

Yet  this  was  Christmas  Eve.  And  the  Child  did 
lie  in  a  manger. 

Perhaps  it  was  well  for  him  that  his  ignorant  faith 
could  accept  the  illusion  as  a  vision  charged  with  all 
the  benignities  of  peace  on  earth,  good-will  toward 
men.  With  a  keen  thrill  in  his  heart,  on  his  knees 
he  drew  the  charge  from  his  rifle,  and  flung  it  down 
a  rift  in  the  rocks.  "  Chrismus  Eve,"  he  murmured. 


'WAY   DOWN  IN   LONESOME   COVE  177 

He  leaned  his  empty  weapon  against  the  wall,  and 
strode  out  to  the  little  girl  who  was  perched  up  on 
the  trough. 

"  Chrismus  gift,  Gunnel !"  he  cried,  cheerily. 
"  Ter-morrer's  Chrismus." 

The  echoes  caught  the  word.  In  vibratory  jubi 
lance  they  repeated  it.  "  Chrismus  !"  rang  from 
the  roof,  scintillating  with  calc-spar ;  "  Chrismus  !" 
sounded  from  the  colonnade  of  stalactites  that 
hung  down  to  meet  the  uprising  stalagmites ; 
"  Chrismus !"  repeated  the  walls  incrusted  with 
roses  that,  shut  in  from  the  light  and  the  fresh  air 
of  heaven,  bloomed  forever  in  the  stone.  Was  ever 
chorus  so  sweet  as  this  ? 

It  reached  Tobe  Gryce,  who  stood  at  his  impro 
vised  corn-bin*.  With  a  bundle  of  fodder  still  in  his 
arms  he  stepped  forward.  There  beside  the  little 
Colonel  and  the  black  mare  he  beheld  a  man  seated 
upon  an  inverted  half -bushel  measure,  peacefully 
lighting  his  pipe  with  a  bunch  of  straws  which  he 
kindled  at  the  lantern  on  the  ash-hopper. 

The  ranger's  black  eyes  were  wide  with  wonder 
at  this  intrusion,  and  angrily  flashed.  He  con 
nected  it  at  once  with  the  attack  on  the  stable. 
The  hair  on  his  low  forehead  rose  bristlingly  as 
he  frowned.  Yet  he  realized  with  a  quaking  heart 
that  he  was  helpless.  He,  although  the  crack  shot 
of  the  county,  would  not  have  fired  while  the  Colo 
nel  was  within  two  yards  of  his  mark  for  the  State 
of  Tennessee. 

He  stood  his  ground  with  stolid  courage — a  tar 
get. 

Then,  with  a  start  of  surprise,  he  perceived  that 


178  'WAY   DOWN   IN   LONESOME  COVE 

the  intruder  was  unarmed.  Twenty  feet  away  his 
rifle  stood  against  the  wall. 

Tobe  Gryce  was  strangely  shaken.  He  experi 
enced  a  sudden  revolt  of  credulity.  This  was  surely 
a  dream. 

"  Ain't  that  thar  Luke  Todd  ?  Why  air  ye  a-wait- 
in'  thar  ?"  he  called  out  in  a  husky  undertone. 

Todd  glanced  up,  and  took  his  pipe  from  his 
mouth  ;  it  was  now  fairly  alight. 

"  Kase  it  be  Chrismus  Eve,  Tobe,"  he  said, 
gravely. 

The  ranger  stared  for  a  moment;  then  came 
forward  and  gave  the  fodder  to  the  mare,  pausing 
now  and  then  and  looking  with  oblique  distrust 
down  upon  Luke  Todd  as  he  smoked  his  pipe. 

"  I  want  ter  tell  ye,  Tobe,  ez  some  o'  the  moun 
ting  boys  air  a-sarchin  fur  ye  outside." 

"  Who  air  they  ?"  asked  the  ranger,  calmly. 

His  tone  was  so  natural,  his  manner  so  unsuspect 
ing,  that  a  new  doubt  began  to  stir  in  Luke  Todd's 
mind. 

"  What  ails  ye  ter  keep  the  mare  down  hyar, 
Tobe  ?"  he  asked,  suddenly.  "  'Pears  like  ter  me 
ez  that  be  powerful  comical." 

"  Kase,"  said  Tobe,  reasonably,  "  some  durned 
horse-thieves  kem  arter  her  one  night.  I  fired  at 
'em.  I  hain't  hearn  on  'em  sence.  An'  so  I  jes 
hid  the  mare." 

Todd  was  puzzled.  He  shifted  his  pipe  in  his 
mouth.  Finally  he  said :  "  Some  folks  'lowed  ez 
ye  hed  no  right  ter  take  up  that  mare,  bein'  ez  ye 
war  the  ranger." 

Tobe   Gryce  whirled   round    abruptly.     "What 


'WAY   DOWN    IN    LONESOME   COVE  179 

war  I  a-goin'  ter  do,  then  ?  Feed  the  critter  fur 
nuthin  till  the  triflin'  scamp  ez  owned  her  kem  arter 
her  ?  I  couldn't  work  her  'thout  takin'  her  up  an' 
hevin  her  appraised.  Thar's  a  law  agin  sech.  An' 
I  couldn't  git  somebody  ter  toll  her  off  an'  take  her 
up.  That  ain't  fair.  What  ought  I  ter  hev  done  ?" 

"  Wa'al,"  said  Luke,  drifting  into  argument,  "  the 
town-folks  'low  ez  ye  hev  got  nuthin  ter  prove  it  by, 
the  stray-book  an'  records  bein'  burnt.  The  town- 
folks  'low  ez  ye  can't  prove  by  writin'  an'  sech  ez  ye 
ever  tried  ter  find  the  owner." 

"The  town-folks  air  fairly  sodden  in  foolishness," 
exclaimed  the  ranger,  indignantly. 

He  drew  from  his  ample  pocket  a  roll  of  ragged 
newspapers,  and  pointed  with  his  great  thumb  at  a 
paragraph.  And  Luke  Todd  read  by  the  light  of 
the  lantern  the  advertisement  and  description  of 
the  estray  printed  according  to  law  in  the  nearest 
newspaper. 

The  newspaper  was  so  infrequent  a  factor  in  the 
lives  of  the  mountain  gossips  that  this  refutation 
of  their  theory  had  never  occurred  to  them. 

The  sheet  was  trembling  in  Luke  Todd's  hand ; 
his  eyes  filled.  The  cavern  with  its  black  distances, 
its  walls  close  at  hand  sparkling  with  delicate  points 
of  whitest  light ;  the  yellow  flare  of  the  lantern  ;  the 
grotesque  shadows  on  the  ground  ;  the  fair  little 
girl  with  her  golden  hair ;  the  sleek  black  mare ; 
the  burly  figure  of  the  ranger — all  the  scene  swayed 
before  him.  He  remembered  the  gracious  vision 
that  had  saluted  him  ;  he  shuddered  at  the  crime 
from  which  he  was  rescued.  Pity  him  because  he 
knew  naught  of  the  science  of  optics ;  of  the  be- 


i8o  'WAY  DOWN  IN  LONESOME  COVE 

wildering  effects  of  a  sudden  burst  of  light  upon 
the  delicate  mechanism  of  the  eye;  of  the  vagaries 
of  illusion. 

"Tobe,"  he  said,  in  a  solemn  voice  —  all  the 
echoes  were  bated  to  awed  whispers — "  I  hev  been 
gin  ter  view  a  vision  this  night,  bein'  'twar  Chris- 
mus  Eve.  An'  now  I  want  ter  shake  hands  on  it 
fur  peace." 

Then  he  told  the  whole  story,  regardless  of  the 
ranger's  demonstrations,  albeit  they  were  sometimes 
violent  enough.  Tobe  sprang  up  with  a  snort  of 
rage,  his  eyes  flashing,  his  thick  tongue  stumbling 
with  the  curses  crowding  upon  it,  when  he  realized 
the  suspicions  rife  against  him  at  the  county  town. 
But  he  stood  with  his  clinched  hand  slowly  relaxing, 
and  with  the  vague  expression  which  one  wears 
who  looks  into  the  past,  as  he  listened  to  the  recital 
of  Eugenia's  pilgrimage  in  the  snowy  wintry  dawn. 
"  Mighty  few  folks  hev  got  a  wife  ez  set  store  by 
'em  like  that,"  Luke  remarked,  impersonally. 

The  ranger's  rejoinder  seemed  irrelevant. 

"  'Genie  be  a-goin'  ter  see  a  powerful  differ  arter 
this,"  he  said,  and  fell  to  musing. 

Snow,  fatigue,  and  futility  destroyed  the  ardor  of 
the  lynching  party  after  a  time,  and  they  dispersed 
to  their  homes.  Little  was  said  of  this  expedition 
afterward,  and  it  became  quite  impossible  to  find 
a  man  who  would  admit  having  joined  it.  For 
the  story  went  the  rounds  of  the  mountain  that 
there  had  been  a  mistake  as  to  unfair  dealing  on 
the  part  of  the  ranger,  and  Luke  Todd  was  quite 
content  to  accept  from  the  county  treasury  half  the 
sum  of  the  mare's  appraisement — with  the  deduc- 


'WAY   DOWN    IN    LONESOME   COVE  iSl 

tion  of  the  stipulated  per  cent. — which  Tobe  Gryce 
had  paid,  the  receipt  for  which  he  produced. 

The  gossips  complained,  however,  that  after  all 
this  was  settled  according  to  law,  Tobe  wouldn't 
keep  the  mare,  and  insisted  that  Luke  should  re 
turn  to  him  the  money  he  had  paid  into  the  treas 
ury,  half  her  value,  "bein5  so  brigaty  he  wouldn't 
own  Luke  Todd's  beast.  An 'Luke  agreed  ter  so 
do;  but  he  didn't  want  ter  be  outdone,  so  fur  the 
keep  o'  the  filly  he  gin  the  Gunnel  a  heifer.  An' 
Tobe  war  mighty  nigh  tickled  ter  death  fur  the 
Gunnel  ter  hev  a  cow  o'  her  own." 

And  now  when  December  skies  darken  above 
Lonesome  Cove,  and  the  snow  in  dizzying  whirls 
sifts  softly  down,  and  the  gaunt  brown  leafless 
heights  are  clothed  with  white  as  with  a  garment, 
and  the  wind  whistles  and  shouts  shrilly,  and  above 
the  great  crag  loom  the  distant  mountains,  and  be 
low  are  glimpsed  the  long  stretches  of  the  valley, 
the  two  men  remember  the  vision  that  illumined 
the  cavernous  solitudes  that  night,  and  bless  the 
gracious  power  that  sent  salvation  'way  down  to 
Lonesome  Cove,  and  cherish  peace  and  good-will 
for  the  sake  of  a  little  Child  that  lay  in  a  manger. 


THE 
MOONSHINERS  AT  HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 


THE 
MOONSHINERS  AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 


IF  the  mission  of  the  little  school-house  in  Holly 
Cove  was  to  impress  upon  the  youthful  mind  a 
comprehension  and  appreciation  of  the  eternal 
verities  of  nature,  its  site  could  hardly  have  been 
better  chosen.  All  along  the  eastern  horizon  de 
ployed  the  endless  files  of  the  Great  Smoky  Moun 
tains — blue  and  sunlit,  with  now  and  again  the  ap 
parition  of  an  unfamiliar  peak,  hovering  like  a 
straggler  in  the  far-distant  rear,  and  made  visible 
for  the  nonce  by  some  exceptional  clarification  of 
the  atmosphere  ;  or  lowering,  gray,  stern  ;  or  with 
ranks  of  clouds  hanging  on  their  flanks,  while  all 
the  artillery  of  heaven  whirled  about  them,  and  the 
whole  world  quaked  beneath  the  flash  and  roar  of 
its  volleys.  The  seasons  successively  painted  the 
great  landscape — spring,  with  its  timorous  touch, 
its  illumined  haze,  its  tender,  tentative  green  and 
gray  and  yellow ;  summer,  with  its  flush  of  comple 
tion,  its  deep,  luscious,  definite  verdure,  and  the 
golden  richness  of  fruition ;  autumn,  with  a  full 
brush  and  all  chromatic  splendors ;  winter,  in  mel 
ancholy  sepia  tones,  black  and  brown  and  many 


l86     THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

sad  variations  of  the  pallors  of  white.  So  high 
was  the  little  structure  on  the  side  of  a  transverse 
ridge  that  it  commanded  a  vast  field  of  sky  above 
the  wooded  ranges ;  and  in  the  immediate  fore 
ground,  down  between  the  slopes  which  were  cleft 
to  the  heart,  was  the  river,  resplendent  with  the 
reflected  moods  of  the  heavens.  In  this  deep 
gorge  the  winds  and  the  pines  chanted  like  a 
Greek  chorus;  the  waves  continuously  murmured 
an  intricate  rune,  as  if  conning  it  by  frequent  rep 
etition  ;  a  bird  would  call  out  from  the  upper  air 
some  joyous  apothegm  in  a  language  which  no  creat 
ure  of  the  earth  has  learned  enough  of  happiness 
to  translate. 

But  the  precepts  which  prevailed  in  the  little 
school -house  were  to  the  effect  that  rivers,  except 
as  they  flowed  as  they  listed  to  confusing  points  of 
the  compass,  rising  among  names  difficult  to  re 
member,  and  emptying  into  the  least  anticipated 
body  of  water,  were  chiefly  to  be  avoided  for  their 
proclivity  to  drown  small  boys  intent  on  swimming 
or  angling.  Mountains,  aside  from  the  desirabil 
ity  of  their  recognition  as  forming  one  of  the  divis 
ions  of  land  somewhat  easily  distinguishable  by 
the  more  erudite  youth  from  plains,  valleys,  and 
capes,  were  full  of  crags  and  chasms,  rattlesnakes 
and  vegetable  poisons,  and  a  further  familiarity  with 
them  was  liable  to  result  in  the  total  loss  of  the 
adventurous — to  see  friends,  family,  and  home  no 
more. 

These  dicta,  promulgated  from  the  professorial 
chair,  served  to  keep  the  small  body  of  callow 
humanity,  with  whose  instruction  Abner  Sage  was 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE  FALLS      187 

intrusted  by  the  State,  well  within  call  and  out  of 
harm's  way  during  the  short  recesses,  while  under 
his  guidance  they  toddled  along  the  rough  road 
that  leads  up  the  steeps  to  knowledge.  But  one 
there  was  who  either  bore  a  charmed  life  or  pos 
sessed  an  unequalled  craft  in  successfully  defying 
danger ;  who  fished  and  swam  with  impunity ;  who 
was  ragged  and  torn  from  much  climbing  of  crags ; 
whose  freckled  face  bore  frequent  red  tokens  of  an 
indiscriminate  sampling  of  berries.  It  is  too  much 
to  say  that  Abner  Sage  would  have  been  glad  to 
have  his  warnings  made  terrible  by  some  bodily 
disaster  to  the  juvenile  dare-devil  of  the  school, 
but  Leander  Yerby's  disobedient  incredulity  as  to 
the  terrors  that  menaced  him,  and  his  triumphant 
immunity,  fostered  a  certain  grudge  against  him. 
Covert  though  it  was,  unrecognized  even  by  Sage 
himself,  it  was  very  definitely  apparent  to  Tyler 
Sudley  when  sometimes,  often,  indeed,  on  his  way 
home  from  hunting,  he  would  pause  at  the  school- 
house  window,  pulling  open  the  shutter  from  the 
outside,  and  gravely  watch  his  protege',  who  stood 
spelling  at  the  head  of  the  class. 

For  Leander  Yerby's  exploits  were  not  altogether 
those  of  a  physical  prowess.  He  was  a  mighty 
wrestler  with  the  multiplication  table.  He  had 
met  and  overthrown  the  nine  line  in  single-hand 
ed  combat.  He  had  attained  unto  some  inter 
esting  knowledge  of  the  earth  on  which  he  lived, 
and  could  fluently  bound  countries  with  neatness 
and  precision,  and  was  on  terms  of  intimacy  with 
sundry  seas,  volcanoes,  islands,  and  other  sizable 
objects.  The  glib  certainty  of  his  contemptuous 


l88      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT    HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

familiarity  with  the  alphabet  and  its  untoward  com 
binations,  as  he  flung  off  words  in  four  syllables  in 
his  impudent  chirping  treble,  seemed  something 
uncanny,  almost  appalling,  to  Tyler  Sudley,  who 
could  not  have  done  the  like  to  save  his  stalwart 
life.  He  would  stare  dumfounded  at  the  erudite 
personage  at  the  head  of  the  class  ;  Leander's  bare 
feet  were  always  carefully  adjusted  to  a  crack  be 
tween  the  puncheons  of  the  floor,  literally  "  toeing 
the  mark";  his  broad  trousers,  frayed  out  liberally 
at  the  hem,  revealed  his  skinny  and  scarred  little 
ankles,  for  his  out-door  adventures  were  not  with 
out  a  record  upon  the  more  impressionable  portions 
of  his  anatomy ;  his  waistband  was  drawn,  high  up 
under  his  shoulder-blades  and  his  ribs,  and  girt 
over  the  shoulders  of  his  unbleached  cotton  shirt 
by  braces,  which  all  his  learning  did  not  prevent 
him  from  calling  "galluses";  his  cut,  scratched, 
calloused  hands  were  held  stiffly  down  at  the  side 
seams  in  his  nether  garments  in  strict  accordance 
with  the  regulations.  But  rules  could  not  control 
the  twinkle  in  his  big  blue  eyes,  the  mingled  effron 
tery  and  affection  on  his  freckled  face  as  he  per 
ceived  the  on-looking  visitor,  nor  hinder  the  wink, 
the  swiftly  thrust-out  tongue,  as  swiftly  withdrawn, 
the  egregious  display  of  two  rows  of  dishevelled 
jagged  squirrel  teeth,  when  once  more,  with  an  off 
hand  toss  of  his  tangled  brown  hair,  he  nimbly 
spelled  a  long  twisted-tailed  word,  and  leered  capa 
bly  at  the  grave  intent  face  framed  in  the  window. 
"  Why,  Abner !"  Tyler  Sudley  would  break  out, 
addressing  the  teacher,  all  unmindful  of  scholastic 
etiquette,  a  flush  of  pleasure  rising  to  his  swarthy 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      189 

cheek  as  he  thrust  back  his  wide  black  hat  on  his 
long  dark  hair  and  turned  his  candid  gray  eyes, 
all  aglow,  upon  the  cadaverous,  ascetic  preceptor, 
"ain't  Lee-yander  a-gittin'  on  powerful,  powerful 
fas'  with  his  book  ?" 

"  Not  in  enny  ways  so  special,"  Sage  would  reply 
in  cavalier  discouragement,  his  disaffected  gaze 
resting  upon  the  champion  scholar,  who  stood  elat 
ed,  confident,  needing  no  commendation  to  assure 
him  of  his  pre-eminence  ;  "but  he  air  disobejient, 
an'  turr'ble,  turr'ble  bad." 

The  nonchalance  with  which  Leander  Yerby 
hearkened  to  this  criticism  intimated  a  persuasion 
that  there  were  many  obedient  people  in  this  world, 
but  few  who  could  so  disport  themselves  in  the  in 
tricacies  of  the  English  language ;  and  Suclley,  as 
he  plodded  homeward  with  his  rifle  on  his  shoul 
der,  his  dog  running  on  in  advance,  and  Leander 
pattering  along  behind,  was  often  moved  to  add  the 
weight  of  his  admonition  to  the  teacher's  reproof. 

"Lee-yander,"  he  would  gently  drawl,  "ye 
mustn't  be  so  bad,  honey ;  ye  mustn't  be  so  turr'ble 
bad." 

"  Naw,  ma'am,  I  won't,"  Leander  would  cheerily 
pipe  out,  and  so  the  procession  would  wend  its  way 
along. 

For  he  still  confused  the  gender  in  titles  of  re 
spect,  and  from  force  of  habit  he  continued  to 
do  so  in  addressing  Tyler  Sudley  for  many  a  year 
after  he  had  learned  better. 

These  lapses  were  pathetic  rather  than  ridiculous 
in  the  hunter's  e.ars.  It  was  he  who  had  taught 
Leander  every  observance  of  verbal  humility  tow- 


190     THE  MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 

ard  his  wife,  in  the  forlorn  hope  of  propitiating  her 
in  the  interest  of  the  child,  who,  however,  with  his 
quick  understanding  that  the  words  sought  to  do 
honor  and  express  respect,  had  of  his  own  accord 
transferred  them  to  his  one  true  friend  in  the  house 
hold.  The  only  friend  he  had  in  the  world,  Sudley 
often  felt,  with  a  sigh  over  the  happy  child's  forlorn 
estate.  And,  with  the  morbid  sensitiveness  pecul 
iar  to  a  tender  conscience,  he  winced  under  the 
knowledge  that  it  was  he  who,  through  wrong- 
headedness  or  wrongheartedness,  had  contrived  to 
make  all  the  world  besides  the  boy's  enemy.  Both 
wrongheaded  and  wronghearted  he  was,  he  some 
times  told  himself.  For  even  now  it  still  seemed 
to  him  that  he  had  not  judged  amiss,  that  only  the 
perversity  of  fate  had  thwarted  him.  Was  it  so  fan 
tastically  improbable,  so  hopeless  a  solace  that  he 
had  planned,  that  he  should  have  thought  his  wife 
might  take  comfort  for  the  death  of  their  own  child 
in  making  for  its  sake  a  home  for  another,  orphaned, 
forlorn,  a  burden,  and  a  glad  riddance  to  those 
into  whose  grudging  charge  it  had  been  thrown  ? 
This  bounty  of  hope  and  affection  and  comfort  had 
seemed  to  him  a  free  gift  from  the  dead  baby's 
hands,  who  had  no  need  of  it  since  coming  into  its 
infinite  heritage  of  immortality,  to  the  living  waif, 
to  whom  it  was  like  life  itself,  since  it  held  all  the 
essential  values  of  existence.  The  idea  smote  him 
like  an  inspiration.  He  had  ridden  twenty  miles 
in  a  snowy  night  to  beg  the  unwelcome  mite  from 
the  custody  of  its  father's  half-brothers,  who  were 
on  the  eve  of  moving  to  a  neighboring  county  with 
all  their  kin  and  belongings. 


THE  MOONSHINERS  AT  HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      191 

Tyler  Sudley  was  a  slow  man,  and  tenacious  of 
impressions.  He  could  remember  every  detail  of 
the  events  as  they  had  happened — the  palpable 
surprise,  the  moment  of  hesitation,  the  feint  of  de 
nial  which  successively  ensued  on  his  arrival.  It 
mattered  not  what  the  season  or  the  hour — he 
could  behold  at  will  the  wintry  dawn,  the  deserted 
cabin,  the  glow  of  embers  dying  on  the  hearth  with 
in  ;  the  white-covered  wagon  slowly  a-creak  along 
the  frozen  road  beneath  the  gaunt,  bare,  overhang 
ing  trees,  the  pots  and  pans  as  they  swung  at  the 
rear,  the  bucket  for  water  swaying  beneath,  the 
mounted  men  beside  it,  the  few  head  of  swine  and 
cattle  driven  before  them.  Years  had  passed,  but 
he  could  feel  anew  the  vague  stir  of  the  living  bun 
dle  which  he  held  on  the  pommel  of  his  saddle,  the 
sudden  twist  it  gave  to  bring  its  inquiring,  appre 
hensive  eyes,  so  large  in  its  thin,  lank-jawed,  pit 
eous  little  countenance,  to  bear  on  his  face,  as  if  it 
understood  its  transfer  of  custody,  and  trembled 
lest  a  worse  thing  befall  it.  One  of  the  women 
stopped  the  wagon  and  ran  back  to  pin  about  its 
neck  an  additional  wrapping,  an  old  red-flannel  pet 
ticoat,  lest  it  should  suffer  in  its  long,  cold  ride. 
His  heart  glowed  with  vicarious  gratitude  for  her 
forethought,  and  be  shook  her  hand  warmly  and 
wished  her  well,  and  hoped  that  she  might  prosper 
in  her  new  home,  and  stood  still  to  watch  the 
white  wagon  out  of  sight  in  the  avenue  of  the  snow- 
laden  trees,  above  which  the  moon  was  visible, 
a-journeying  too,  swinging  down  the  western  sky. 

Laurelia  Sudley  sat  in  stunned  amazement  when, 
half -frozen,  but  triumphant  and  flushed  and  full 


192      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE  FALLS 

of  his  story,  he  burst  into  the  warm  home  atmos 
phere,  and  put  the  animated  bundle  down  upon  the 
hearth-stone  in  front  of  the  glowing  fire.  For  one 
moment  she  met  its  forlorn  gaze  out  of  its  peaked 
and  pinched  little  face  with  a  vague  hesitation  in 
her  own  worn,  tremulous,  sorrow  -  stricken  eyes. 
Then  she  burst  into  a  tumult  of  tears,  upbraiding 
her  husband  that  he  could  think  that  another  child 
could  take  the  place  of  her  dead  child  —  all  the 
dearer  because  it  was  dead  ;  that  she  could  play 
the  traitor  to  its  memory  and  forget  her  sacred 
grief ;  that  she  could  do  aught  as  long  as  she 
should  live  but  sit  her  down  to  bewail  her  loss, 
every  tear  a  tribute,  every  pang  its  inalienable 
right,  her  whole  smitten  existence  a  testimony  to 
her  love.  It  was  in  vain  that  he  expostulated.  The 
idea  of  substitution  had  never  entered  his  mind. 
But  he  was  ignorant,  and  clumsy  of  speech,  and  un 
accustomed  to  analyze  his  motives.  He  could  not 
put  into  words  his  feeling  that  to  do  for  the  wel 
fare  of  this  orphaned  and  unwelcome  little  creature 
all  that  they  would  have  done  for  their  own  was  in 
some  sort  a  memorial  to  him,  and  brought  them 
nearer  to  him — that  she  might  find  in  it  a  satisfac 
tion,  an  occupation — that  it  might  serve  to  fill  her 
empty  life,  her  empty  arms. 

But  no  !  She  thought,  and  the  neighbors  thought, 
and  after  a  time  Tyler  Sudley  came  to  think  also, 
that  he  had  failed  in  the  essential  duty  to  the  dead 
— that  of  affectionate  remembrance ;  that  he  was 
recreant,  strangely  callous.  They  all  said  that  he 
had  seemed  to  esteem  one  baby  as  good  as  another, 
and  that  he  was  surprised  that  his  wife  was  not 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT    HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      193 

consoled  for  the  loss  of  her  own  child  because  he 
took  it  into  his  head  to  go  and  toll  off  the  Yerby 
baby  from  his  father's  half-brothers  "ez  war  movin' 
away  an'  war  glad  enough  ter  get  rid  o1  one  head  o' 
human  stock  ter  kerry,  though,  beiii>  human,  they 
oughter  been  ashamed  ter  gin  him  away  like  a 
puppy-dog,  or  an  extry  cat,  all  hands  consarned." 

From  the  standpoint  she  had  taken  Laurelia  had 
never  wavered.  It  was  an  added  and  a  continual 
reproach  to  her  husband  that  all  the  labor  and 
care  of  the  ill-advised  acquisition  fell  to  her  share. 
She  it  was  who  must  feed  and  clothe  and  tend  the 
gaunt  little  usurper ;  he  needs  must  be  accorded 
all  the  infantile  prerogatives,  and  he  exacted  much 
time  and  attention.  Despite  the  grudging  spirit  in 
which  her  care  was  given  she  failed  in  no  essential, 
and  presently  the  interloper  was  no  longer  gaunt 
or  pallid  or  apprehensive,  but  grew  pink  and  che 
rubic  of  build,  and  arrogant  of  mind.  He  had  no 
sensitive  sub-current  of  suspicion  as  to  his  welcome  ; 
he  filled  the  house  with  his  gay  babbling,  and  if  no 
maternal  chirpings  encouraged  the  development  of 
his  ideas  and  his  powers  of  speech,  his  cheerful 
spirits  seemed  strong  enough  to  thrive  on  their 
own  stalwart  endowments.  His  hair  began  to  curl, 
and  a  neighbor,  remarking  on  it  to  Laurelia,  and 
forgetting  for  the  moment  his  parentage,  said,  in 
admiring  glee,  twining  the  soft  tendrils  over  her  fin 
ger,  that  Mrs.  Sudley  had  never  before  had  a  child  so 
well-favored  as  this  one.  From  this  time  forth  was 
infused  a  certain  rancor  into  his  foster-mother's 
spirit  toward  him.  Her  sense  of  martyrdom  was 
complete  when  another  infant  was  born  and  died, 
13 


194      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

leaving  her  bereaved  once  more  to  watch  this 
stranger  grow  up  in  her  house,  strong  and  hearty, 
and  handsomer  than  any  child  of  hers  had  been. 

The  mountain  gossips  had  their  own  estimate  of 
her  attitude. 

"  I  ain't  denyin'  but  what  she  hed  nat'ral  feelin' 
fur  her  own  chil'ren,  bein'  dead,"  said  the  dame  who 
had  made  the  unfortunate  remark  about  the  curl 
ing  hair,  "but  Laurelia  Sudley  war  always  a  con 
trary-minded,  lackadaisical  kind  o'  gal  afore  she  war 
married,  sorter  set  in  opposition,  an'  now  ez  she 
ain't  purty  like  she  useter  was,  through  cryin'  her 
eyes  out,  an'  gittin'  sallow-complected  an'  bony,  I 
kin  notice  her  contrariousness  more.  Ef  Tyler 
hedn't  brung  that  chile  home,  like  ez  not  she'd  hev 
sot  her  heart  on  borryin'  one  herself  from  some 
body.  Lee-yander  ain't  in  nowise  abused,  ez  I 
kin  see  —  ain't  acquainted  with  the  rod,  like  the 
Bible  say  he  oughter  be,  an'  ennybody  kin  see  ez 
Laurelia  don't  like  the  name  he  gin  her,  yit  she 
puts  up  with  it.  She  larnt  him  ter  call  Ty  '  Cap'n,' 
bein'  she's  sorter  proud  of  it,  'kase  Ty  war  a  cap'n 
of  a  critter  company  in  the  war :  'twarn't  sech  a 
mighty  matter  nohow ;  he  jes  got  ter  be  cap'n 
through  the  other  ofFcers  bein'  killed  off.  An'  the 
leetle  boy  got  it  twisted  somehows,  an'  calls  her 
'Cap'n'  an'  Ty  '  Neighbor,'  from  hearin'  old  man 
Jeemes,  ez  comes  in  constant,  givin'  him  that  old- 
fashioned  name.  *  Cap'n'  'bout  fits  Laurelia,  though, 
an'  that's  a  fac'." 

Laurelia's  melancholy  ascendency  in  the  house 
hold  was  very  complete.  It  was  characterized  by 
no  turbulence,  no  rages,  no  long-drawn  argument 


THE    MOONSHINERS   AT    HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS      195 

or  objurgation ;  it  expressed  itself  only  in  a  settled 
spirit  of  disaffection,  a  pervasive  suggestion  of 
martyrdom,  silence  or  sighs,  or  sometimes  a  de 
pressing  singing  of  hymn  tunes.  For  her  husband 
had  long  ago  ceased  to  remonstrate,  or  to  seek  to 
justify  himself.  It  was  with  a  spirit  of  making 
amends  that  he  hastened  to  concede  every  point  of 
question,  to  defer  to  her  preference  in  all  matters, 
and  Laurelia's  sway  grew  more  and  more  absolute 
as  the  years  wore  on.  Leander  Yerby  could  re 
member  no  other  surroundings  than  the  ascetic 
atmosphere  of  his  home.  It  had  done  naught  ap 
parently  to  quell  the  innate  cheerfulness  of  his 
spirit.  He  evidently  took  note,  however,  of  the 
different  standpoint  of  the  "  Captain "  and  his 
"  Neighbor,"  for  although  he  was  instant  in  the 
little  manifestations  of  respect  toward  her  which 
he  had  been  taught,  his  childish  craft  could  not 
conceal  their  spuriousness. 

"That  thar  boy  treats  me  ez  ef  I  war  a  plumb 
idjit,"  Laurelia  said  one  day,  moved  to  her  infre 
quent  anger.  "  Tells  me,  *  Yes,  ma'am,  cap'n,'  an' 
'  Naw,  ma'am,  cap'n,'  jes  ter  quiet  me — like  folks 
useter  do  ter  old  Ed'ard  Green,  ez  war  in  his  do 
tage — an'  then  goes  along  an'  does  the  very  thing  I 
tell  him  not  ter  do." 

Sudley  looked  up  as  he  sat  smoking  his  pipe  by  the 
fire,  a  shade  of  constraint  in  his  manner,  and  a  con 
traction  of  anxiety  in  his  slow,  dark  eyes,  never  quite 
absent  when  she  spoke  to  him  aside  of  Leander. 

She  paused,  setting  her  gaunt  arms  akimbo,  and 
wearing  the  manner  of  one  whose  kindly  patience 
is  beyond  limit  abused.  "Kerns  in  hyar,  he  do, 


196      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT    HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

a-totin'  a  fiddle.     An'  I  says,  '  Lee-yander  Yerby, 
don't  ye  know  that  thar  thing's  the  devil's  snare  ?' 

*  Naw,  ma'am,  cap'n,'  he  says,  grinnin'  like  a  imp  ; 

*  it's  my  snare,  fur  I  hev  bought  it  from  Peter  Teaze- 
ly  fur  two  rabbits  what  I  cotch  in  my  trap,  an'  my 
big  red  rooster,  an'  a  bag  o'  seed  pop-corn,  an'  the 
only  hat  I  hev  got  in  the  worlV     An'  with  that  the 
consarn  gin  sech   a  yawp,  it  plumb  went  through 
my  haid.     An'  then  the  critter  jes  tuk  ter  a-bowin' 
it  back  an'  forth,  a  -  playin'  '  The  Chicken  in  the 
Bread-trough '  like  demented,  a-dancin'  off  on  fust 
one  foot  an'  then    on  t'other  till  the   puncheons 
shuck.     An'  I  druv  him  out   the  house.     I  won't 
stan'  none  o'  Satan's  devices  hyar  !     I  tole  him  he 
couldn't  fetch    that    fiddle  hyar   whenst    he   kerns 
home  ter  -  night,  an'  I  be  a-goin'  ter  make  him  a 
sun-bonnet  or  a  nightcap  ter  wear  stiddier  his  hat 
that  he  traded  off." 

She  paused. 

Her  husband  had  risen,  the  glow  of  his  pipe  fad 
ing  in  his  unheeding  hand,  his  excited  eyes  fixed 
upon  her.  "  Laurely,"  he  exclaimed,  "ye  ain't 
meanin'  ez  that  thar  leetle  critter  could  play  a 
chune  fust  off  on  a  fiddle  'thout  no  larnin' !" 

She  nodded  her  head  in  reluctant  admission. 

He  opened  his  mouth  once  or  twice,  emitting  no 
sound.  She  saw  how  his  elation,  his  spirit  of  com 
mendation,  his  pride,  set  at  naught  her  displeasure, 
albeit  in  self-defence,  perchance,  he  dared  not  say 
a  word.  With  an  eye  alight  and  an  absorbed  face, 
he  laid  his  pipe  on  the  mantel-piece,  and  silently 
took  his  way  out  of  the  house  in  search  of  the 
youthful  musician. 


THE    MOONSHINERS   AT    HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      197 

Easily  found  !  The  racked  and  tortured  echoes 
were  all  aquake  within  half  a  mile  of  the  spot 
where,  bareheaded,  heedless  of  the  threatened  igno 
miny  alike  of  sun-bonnet  or  nightcap,  Leander  sat 
in  the  flickering  sunshine  and  shadow  upon  a  rock 
beside  the  spring,  and  blissfully  experimented  with 
all  the  capacities  of  catgut  to  produce  sound. 

"  Listen,  Neighbor !"  he  cried  out,  descrying  Ty 
ler  Sudley,  who,  indeed,  could  do  naught  else — "lis 
ten  !  Ye  won't  hear  much  better  fiddlin'  this  side 
o'  kingdom  come  !"  And  with  glad  assurance  he 
capered  up  and  down,  the  bow  elongating  the  sound 
to  a  cadence  of  frenzied  glee,  as  his  arms  sought  to 
accommodate  the  nimbler  motions  of  his  legs. 

Thus  it  was  the  mountaineers  later  said  that  Le 
ander  fell  into  bad  company.  For,  the  riddle  being 
forbidden  in  the  sober  Laurelia's  house,  he  must 
needs  go  elsewhere  to  show  his  gift  and  his  growing 
skill,  and  he  found  a  welcome  fast  enough.  Before 
he  had  advanced  beyond  his  stripling  youth,  his  un 
tutored  facility  had  gained  a  rude  mastery  over  the 
instrument;  he  played  with  a  sort  of  fascination 
and  spontaneity  that  endeared  his  art  to  his  uncrit 
ical  audiences,  and  his  endowment  was  held  as 
something  wonderful.  And  now  it  was  that  Laure- 
lia,  hearing  him,  far  away  in  the  open  air,  play  once 
a  plaintive,  melodic  strain,  fugue-like  with  the  elfin 
echoes,  felt  a  strange  soothing  in  the  sound,  found 
tears  in  her  eyes,  not  all  of  pain  but  of  sad  pleas 
ure,  and  assumed  thenceforth  something  of  the 
port  of  a  connoisseur.  She  said  she  "  couldn't 
abide  a  fiddle  jes  sawed  helter-skelter  by  them  ez 
hedn't  larned,  but  ter  play  saaft  an'  slow  an'  solemn, 


198      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 

and  no  dancin'  chune,  no  frolic  song — she  warn't 
set  agin  that  at  all."  And  she  desired  of  Leander 
a  repetition  of  this  sunset  motive  that  evening  when 
he  had  come  home  late,  and  she  discovered  him 
hiding  the  obnoxious  instrument  under  the  porch. 
But  in  vain.  He  did  not  remember  it.  It  was 
some  vague  impulse,  as  unconsciously  voiced  as 
the  dreaming  bird's  song  in  the  sudden  half-awake 
intervals  of  the  night.  Over  and  again,  as  he  stood 
by  the  porch,  the  violin  in  his  arms,  he  touched  the 
strings  tentatively,  as  if,  perchance,  being  so  alive, 
they  might  of  their  own  motion  recall  the  strain 
that  had  so  lately  thrilled  along  them. 

He  had  grown  tall  and  slender.  He  wore  boots 
to  his  knees  now,  and  pridefully  carried  a  "  shoot- 
in'-iron  "  in  one  of  the  long  legs — to  his  great  dis 
comfort.  The  freckles  of  his  early  days  were 
merged  into  the  warm  uniform  tint  of  his  tanned 
complexion.  His  brown  hair  still  curled ;  his 
shirt-collar  fell  away  from  his  throat,  round  and 
full  and  white — the  singer's  throat — as  he  threw 
his  head  backward  and  cast  his  large  roving  eyes 
searchingly  along  the  sky,  as  if  the  missing  strain 
had  wings. 

The  inspiration  returned  no  more,  and  Laurelia 
experienced  a  sense  of  loss.  "  Some  time,  Lee- 
yander,  ef  ye  war  ter  kem  acrost  that  chune  agin, 
try  ter  set  it  in  yer  remembrance,  an'  play  it  whenst 
ye  kem  home,"  she  said,  wistfully,  at  last,  as  if  this 
errant  melody  were  afloat  somewhere  in  the  vague 
realms  of  sound,  where  one  native  to  those  haunts 
might  hope  to  encounter  it  anew. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  cap'n,  I  will,"  he   said,  with   his 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS      199 

facile  assent.  But  his  tone  expressed  slight  inten 
tion,  and  his  indifference  bespoke  a  too  great  wealth 
of  "chimes";  he  could  feel  no  lack  in  some  unre- 
membered  combination,  sport  of  the  moment,  when 
another  strain  would  come  at  will,  as  sweet  per 
chance,  and  new. 

She  winced  as  from  undeserved  reproach  when 
presently  Leander's  proclivities  for  the  society  of 
the  gay  young  blades  about  the  countryside,  some 
times  reputed  "  evil  men,"  were  attributed  to  this 
exile  of  the  violin  from  the  hearth -stone.  She 
roused  herself  to  disputation,  to  indignant  repudia 
tion. 

"  They  talk  ez  ef  it  war  me  ez  led  the  drinkin', 
an'  the  gamin',  an'  the  dancin',  and  sech,  ez  goes 
on  in  the  Cove,  'kase  whenst  Lee-yander  war  about 
fryin'  size  I  wouldn't  abide  ter  hev  him  a-sawin'  away 
on  the  fiddle  in  the  house  enough  ter  make  me  deef 
fur  life.  At  fust  the  racket  of  it  even  skeered  Towse 
so  he  wouldn't  come  out  from  under  the  house  fur 
two  days  an'  better ;  he  jes  sot  under  thar  an' 
growled,  an1  shivered,  an'  showed  his  teeth  ef  enny- 
body  spoke  ter  him.  Nobody  don't  like  Lee-yan- 
der's  performin'  better'n  I  do  whenst  he  plays  them 
saaft,  slippin'-away,  slow  medjures,  ez  sound  plumb 
religious — ef  'twarn't  a  sin  ter  say  so.  Naw,  sir, 
ef  ennybody  hev  sot  Lee-yander  on  ter  evil  ways 
'twarn't  me.  My  conscience  be  clear." 

Nevertheless  she  was  grievously  ill  at  ease  when 
one  day  there  rode  up  to  the  fence  a  tall,  gaunt,  ill- 
favored  man,  whose  long,  lean,  sallow  countenance, 
of  a  Pharisaic  cast,  was  vaguely  familiar  to  her,  as 
one  recognizes  real  lineaments  in  the  contortions  of 


200      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

a  caricature  or  the  bewilderments  of  a  dream.  She 
felt  as  if  in  some  long-previous  existence  she  had 
seen  this  man  as  he  dismounted  at  the  gate  and 
came  up  the  path  with  his  saddle-bags  over  his  arm. 
But  it  was  not  until  he  mustered  an  unready,  un 
willing  smile,  that  had  of  good-will  and  geniality  so 
slight  an  intimation  that  it  was  like  a  spasmodic 
grimace,  did  she  perceive  how  time  had  deepened 
tendencies  to  traits,  how  the  inmost  thought  and 
the  secret  sentiment  had  been  chiselled  into  the 
face  in  the  betrayals  of  the  sculpture  of  fifteen 
years. 

"  Nehemiah  Yerby  !"  she  exclaimed.  "  I  would 
hev  knowed  ye  in  the  happy  land  o'  Canaan." 

''  Let's  pray  we  may  all  meet  thar,  Sister  Sudley," 
he  responded.  "  Let's  pray  that  the  good  time  may 
rind  none  of  us  unprofitable  servants." 

Mrs.  Sudley  experienced  a  sudden  recoil.  Not 
that  she  did  not  echo  his  wish,  but  somehow  his 
manner  savored  of  an  exclusive  arrogation  of  piety 
and  a  suggestion  of  reproach. 

"That's  my  prayer,"  she  retorted,  aggressively. 
"  Day  an'  night,  that's  my  prayer." 

"  Ves'm,  fur  us  an'  our  households,  Sister  Sudley 
— we  mus'  think  o'  them  c'mitted  ter  our  charge." 

She  strove  to  fling  off  the  sense  of  guilt  that  op 
pressed  her,  the  mental  attitude  of  arraignment. 
He  was  a  young  man  when  he  journeyed  away  in 
that  snowy  dawn.  She  did  not  know  what  changes 
had  come  in  his  experience.  Perchance  his  effer 
vescent  piety  was  only  a  habit  of  speech,  and  had 
no  significance  as  far  as  she  was  concerned.  The 
suspicion,  however,  tamed  her  in  some  sort.  She 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      2OI 

attempted  no  retort.  With  a  mechanical,  reluctant 
smile,  ill  adjusted  to  her  sorrow-lined  face,  she 
made  an  effort  to  assume  that  the  greeting  had 
been  but  the  conventional  phrasings  of  the  day. 

"  Kem  in,  kem  in,  Nehemiah;  Tyler  will  be  glad 
ter  see  ye,  an'  I  reckon  ye  will  be  powerful  inter 
ested  ter  view  how  Lee-yander  hev  growed  an' 
prospered." 

She  felt  as  if  she  were  in  some  terrible  dream  as 
she  beheld  him  slowly  wag  his  head  from  side 
to  side.  He  had  followed  her  into  the  large  main 
room  of  the  cabin,  and  had  laid  his  saddle-bags 
down  by  the  side  of  the  chair  in  which  he  had  seated 
himself,  his  elbows  on  his  knees,  his  hands  held 
out  to  the  flickering  blaze  in  the  deep  chimney- 
place,  his  eyes  significantly  narrowing  as  he  gazed 
upon  it. 

"Naw,  Sister  Sudley,"  he  wagged  his  head  more 
mournfully  still.  "  I  kin  but  grieve  ter  hear  how 
my  nevy  Lee-yander  hev  '  prospered,'  ez  ye  call  it, 
an'  I  be  s'prised  ye  should  gin  it  such  a  name. 
Oh-h-h,  Sister  Sudley !"  in  prolonged  and  dreary 
vocative,  "  I  'lowed  ye  war  a  godly  woman.  I 
knowed  yer  name  'mongst  the  church-goers  an'  the 
church-members."  A  faint  flush  sprang  into  her 
delicate  faded  cheek ;  a  halo  encircled  this  repute 
of  sanctity,  she  felt  with  quivering  premonition 
that  it  was  about  to  be  urged  as  a  testimony  against 
her.  "  Elsewise  I  wouldn't  hev  gin  my  cornsent 
ter  hev  lef  the  leetle  lam',  Lee-yander,  in  yer  fold. 
Precious,  precious  leetle  lam' !" 

Poor  Laurelia  !  Were  it  not  that  she  had  a  sense 
of  fault  under  the  scathing  arraignment  of  her  mo- 


202      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT    HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

tives,  her  work,  and  its  result,  although  she  scarce 
ly  saw  how  she  was  to  blame,  that  she  had  equally 
with  him  esteemed  Leander's  standpoint  iniquitous, 
she  might  have  made  a  better  fight  in  her  own  in 
terest.  Why  she  did  not  renounce  the  true  culprit 
as  one  on  whom  all  godly  teachings  were  wasted, 
and,  adopting  the  indisputable  vantage-ground  of 
heredity,  carry  the  war  into  the  enemy's  country, 
ascribing  Leander's  shortcomings  to  his  Yerby 
blood,  and  with  stern  and  superior  joy  proclaiming 
that  he  was  neither  kith  nor  kin  of  hers,  she  won 
dered  afterward,  for  this  valid  ground  of  defence 
did  not  occur  to  her  then.  In  these  long  mourn 
ing  years  she  had  grown  dull ;  her  mental  proc 
esses  were  either  a  sad  introspection  or  reminis 
cence.  Now  she  could  only  take  into  account  her 
sacrifices  of  feeling,  of  time,  of  care ;  the  illnesses 
she  had  nursed,  the  garments  that  she  had  made 
and  mended  —  ah,  how  many !  laid  votive  on  the 
altar  of  Leander's  vigor  and  his  agility,  for  as  he 
scrambled  about  the  crags  he  seemed,  she  was 
wont  to  say,  to  climb  straight  out  of  them.  The 
recollection  of  all  this — the  lesser  and  unspiritual 
maternal  values,  perchance,  but  essential — surged 
over  her  with  bitterness;  she  lost  her  poise,  and 
fell  a-bickering. 

"  '  Precious  leetle  lam','  "  she  repeated,  scornfully. 
"  Precious  he  mus'  hev  been  !  Fur  when  ye  lef 
him  he  hedn't  a  whole  gyarmint  ter  his  back,  an' 
none  but  them  that  kivered  him." 

Nehemiah  Yerby  changed  color  slightly  as  the 
taunt  struck  home,  but  he  was  skilled  in  the  more 
aesthetic  methods  of  argument. 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS    203 


"We  war  pore  —  mighty  pore  indeed,  Sister 
Sudley." 

Now,  consciously  in  the  wrong,  Sister  Sudley, 
with  true  feminine  inconsistency,  felt  better.  She 
retorted  with  bravado. 

"  Needle  an'  thread  ain't  'spensive  nowhar  ez  I 
knows  on,  an'  the  gov'mint  hev  sot  no  tax  on  saaft 
home-made  soap,  so  far  ez  hearn  from." 

She  briskly  placed  her  chair,  a  rude  rocker,  the 
seat  formed  of  a  taut-stretched  piece  of  ox-hide,  be 
side  the  fire,  and  took  up  her  knitting.  A  sock  for 
Leander  it  was — one  of  many  of  all  sizes.  She  re 
membered  the  first  that  she  had  measured  for  the 
bare  pink  toes  which  he  had  brought  there,  forlorn 
candidates  for  the  comfortable  integuments  in  which 
they  were  presently  encased,  and  how  she  had  mor 
bidly  felt  that  every  stitch  she  took  was  a  renuncia 
tion  of  her  own  children,  since  a  stranger  was  hon 
ored  in  their  place.  The  tears  came  into  her  eyes. 
It  was  only  this  afternoon  that  she  had  experienced 
a  pang  of  self-reproach  to  realize  how  near  happi 
ness  she  was — as  near  as  her  temperament  could 
approach.  But  someHow  the  air  was  so  soft ;  she 
could  see  from  where  she  sat  how  the  white  velvet 
buds  of  the  aspen-trees  in  the  dooryard  had  length 
ened  into  long,  cream -tinted,  furry  tassels;  the 
maples  on  the  mountain-side  lifted  their  red  flower 
ing  boughs  against  the  delicate  blue  sky ;  the  grass 
was  so  green ;  the  golden  candlesticks  bunched 
along  the  margin  of  the  path  to  the  rickety  gate 
were  all  a-blossoming.  The  sweet  appeal  of  spring 
had  never  been  more  insistent,  more  coercive. 
Somehow  peace,  and  a  placid  content,  seemed  as 


204    THE    MOONSHINERS   AT  HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

essential  incidents  in  the  inner  life  as  the  growth  of 
the  grass  anew,  the  bursting  of  the  bud,  or  the  soft 
awakening  of  the  zephyr.  Even  within  the  house, 
the  languors  of  the  fire  drowsing  on  the  hearth,  the 
broad  bar  of  sunshine  across  the  puncheon  floor, 
so  slowly  creeping  away,  the  sense  of  the  vernal 
lengthening  of  the  pensive  afternoon,  the  ever-flit 
ting  shadow  of  the  wren  building  under  the  eaves, 
and  its  iterative  gladsome  song  breaking  the  fire 
side  stillness,  partook  of  the  serene  beatitude  of 
the  season  and  the  hour.  The  visitor's  drawling 
voice  rose  again,  and  she  was  not  now  constrained 
to  reproach  herself  that  she  was  too  happy. 

"  Yes'm,  pore  though  we  war  then  —  an'  we 
couldn't  look  forward  ter  the  Lord's  prosperin'  us 
some  sence — we  never  would  hev  lef  the  precious 
leetle  lam'  " — his  voice  dwelt  with  unvanquished 
emphasis  upon  the  obnoxious  words  — "  'mongst 
enny  but  them  persumed  ter  be  godly  folks.  Tyler 
war  a  toler'ble  good  soldier  in  the  war,  an'  hed  a 
good  name  in  the  church,  but  ye  war  persumed  to  be 
a  plumb  special  Christian  with  no  pledjure  in  this 
wort'." 

Laurelia  winced  anew.  This  repute  of  special 
sanctity  was  the  pride  of  her  ascetic  soul.  Few  of 
the  graces  of  life  or  of  the  spirit  had  she  coveted, 
but  her  pre-eminence  as  a  religionist  she  had  fos 
tered  and  cherished,  and  now  through  her  own 
deeds  of  charity  it  seemed  about  to  be  wrested 
from  her. 

"  Lee-yander  Yerby  hev  larnt  nuthin'  but  good 
in  this  house,  an'  all  my  neighbors  will  tell  you  the 
same  word.  The  Cove  'lows  I  hev  been  too  strict." 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS    2O$ 

Nehemiah  was  glancing  composedly  about  the 
room.  "  That  thar  'pears  ter  be  a  fiddle  on  the 
wall,  ain't  it,  Mis'  Sudley  ?"  he  said,  with  an  inci 
dental  air  and  the  manner  of  changing  the  sub 
ject. 

Alack,  for  the  aesthetic  perversion  !  Since  the 
playing  of  those  melancholy  minor  strains  in  that 
red  sunset  so  long  ago,  which  had  touched  so  re 
sponsive  a  chord  in  Laurelia's  grief-worn  heart,  the 
crazy  old  fiddle  had  been  naturalized,  as  it  were, 
and  had  exchanged  its  domicile  under  the  porch 
for  a  position  on  the  wall.  It  was  boldly  visible, 
and  apparently  no  more  ashamed  of  itself  than  was 
the  big  earthen  jar  half  full  of  cream,  which  was 
placed  close  to  the  fireplace  on  the  hearth  in  the 
hope  that  its  contents  might  become  sour  enough 
by  to-morrow  to  be  churned. 

Laurelia  looked  up  with  a  start  at  the  instrument, 
red  and  lustrous  against  the  brown  log  wall,  its  bow 
poised  jauntily  above  it,  and  some  glistening  yellow 
reflection  from  the  sun  on  the  floor  playing  among 
the  strings,  elusive,  soundless  fantasies. 

Her  lower  jaw  dropped.  She  was  driven  to  her 
last  defences,  and  sore  beset.  "  It  air  a  fiddle," 
she  said,  slowly,  at  last,  and  with  an  air  of  con 
scientious  admission,  as  if  she  had  had  half  a  mind 
to  deny  it.  "  A  fiddle  the  thing  air."  Then,  as 
she  collected  her  thoughts,  "  Brother  Pete  Vickers 
'lows  ez  he  sees  no  special  sin  in  playin'  the  fiddle. 
He  'lows  ez  in  some  kentries — I  disremember  whar 
— they  plays  on  'em  in  church,  quirin'  an'  hymn 
chimes  an'  sech." 

Her  voice  faltered  a  little  ;  she  had  never  thought 


206    THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

to  quote  this  fantasy  in  her  own  defence,  for  she  se 
cretly  believed  that  old  man  Vickers  must  have  been 
humbugged  by  some  worldly  brother  skilled  in  draw 
ing  the  long  bow  himself. 

Nehemiah  Yerby  seemed  specially  endowed  with 
a  conscience  for  the  guidance  of  other  people,  so 
quick  was  he  to  descry  and  pounce  upon  their  short 
comings.  If  one's  sins  are  sure  to  find  one  out,  there 
is  little  doubt  but  that  Brother  Nehemiah  would  be 
on  the  ground  first. 

"Air  you-uns  a-settin'  under  the  preachin'  o' 
Brother  Peter  Vickers  ?"  he  demanded  in  a  sepul 
chral  voice. 

"  Naw,  naw,"  she  was  glad  to  reply.  "  'Twar 
onderstood  ez  Brother  Vickers  wanted  a  call  ter  the 
church  in  the  Cove,  bein'  ez  his  relations  live  hyar- 
abouts,  an'  he  kem  up  an'  preached  a  time  or  two. 
But  he  didn't  git  no  call.  The  brethren  'lowed 
Brother  Vickers  war  too  slack  in  his  idees  o'  re 
ligion.  Some  said  his  hell  warn't  half  hot  enough. 
Thar  air  some  powerful  sinners  in  the  Cove,  an' 
nuthin'  but  good  live  coals  an'  a  liquid  blazin'  fire 
air  a-goin'  ter  deter  them  from  the  evil  o'  thar 
ways.  So  Brother  Vickers  went  back  the  road  he 
kem." 

She  knit  off  her  needle  while,  with  his  head  still 
bent  forward,  Nehemiah  Yerby  sourly  eyed  her,  feel 
ing  himself  a  loser  with  Brother  Vickers,  in  that  he 
did  not  have  the  reverend  man's  incumbency  as  a 
grievance. 

"  He  'pears  ter  me  ter  see  mo'  pleasure  in  religion 
'n  penance,  ennyhow,"  he  observed,  bitterly.  "  An' 
the  Lord  knows  the  bes'  of  us  air  sinners." 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT    HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS      2OJ 

"  An'  he  laughs  loud  an'  frequent — mightily  like  a 
sinner,"  she  agreed.  "An'  whenst  he  prays,  he 
prays  loud  an'  hearty,  like  he  jes  expected  ter  git 
what  he  axed  fur  sure's  shootin'.  Some  o'  the  breth- 
erin'  sorter  taxed  him  with  his  sperits,  an'  he  'lowed 
he  couldn't  holp  but  be  cheerful  whenst  he  hed  the 
Lord's  word  fur  it  ez  all  things  work  tergether  fur 
good.  An'  he  laffed  same  ez  ef  they  hedn't  spoke 
ter  him  serious." 

"  Look  at  that,  now !"  exclaimed  Nehemiah. 
"  An'  that  thar  man  ez  good  ez  dead  with  the  heart- 
disease." 

Laurelia's  eyes  were  suddenly  arrested  by  his 
keen,  pinched,  lined  face.  What  there  was  in  it  to 
admonish  her  she  could  hardly  have  said,  nor  how 
it  served  to  tutor  her  innocent  craft. 

"  I  ain't  so  sure  'bout  Brother  Vickers  bein'  so 
wrong,"  she  said,  slowly.  "  He  'lowed  ter  me  ez  I 
hed  spent  too  much  o'  my  life  a-sorrowin',  'stiddier 
a-praisin'  the  Lord  for  his  mercies."  Her  face 
twitched  suddenly;  she  could  not  yet  look  upon 
her  bereavements  as  mercies.  "  He  'lowed  I  would 
hev  been  a  happier  an'  a  better  'oman  ef  I  hed  took 
the  evil  ez  good  from  the  Lord's  hand,  fur  in  his 
sendin'  it's  the  same.  An'  .1  know  that  air  a  true 
word.  An'  that's  what  makes  me  'low  what  he  said 
war  true  'bout'n  that  fiddle ;  that  I  ought  never  ter 
hev  pervented  the  boy  from  playin'  'round  home  an' 
sech,  an'  'twarn't  no  sin  but  powerful  comfortable 
an'  pleasurable  ter  set  roun'  of  a  cold  winter  night 
an'  hear  him  play  them  slow,  sweet,  dyin'-away 
chunes — "  She  dropped  her  hands,  and  gazed  with 
the  rapt  eyes  of  remembrance  through  the  window 


208      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT    HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

at  the  sunset  clouds  which,  gathering  red  and  pur 
ple  and  gold  on  the  mountain's  brow,  were  reflected 
roseate  and  amethyst  and  amber  at  the  mountain's 
base  on  the  steely  surface  of  the  river.  "  Brother 
Vickers  'lowed  he  never  hearn  sech  in  all  his  life. 
It  brung  the  tears  ter  his  eyes — it  surely  did." 

"  He'd  a  heap  better  be  weepin'  fur  them  black 
sheep  o'  his  congregation  an'  fur  Lee-yander's  short- 
comin's,  fur  ez  fur  ez  I  kin  hear  he  air  about  ez  black 
a  sheep  ez  most  pastors  want  ter  wrestle  with  fur 
the  turnin'  away  from  thar  sins.  Yes'm,  Sister  Sud- 
ley,  that's  jes  what  p'inted  out  my  jewty  plain  afore 
my  eyes,  an'  I  riz  up  an'  kem  ter  be  instant  in  a-do- 
in'  of  it.  '  I'll  not  leave  my  own  nevy  in  the  tents 
o'  sin,'  I  sez.  '  I  hev  chil'n  o'  my  own,  hearty  feeders 
an'  hard  on  shoe-leather,  ter  support,  but  I'll  not 
grudge  my  brother's  son  a  home.'  Yes,  Laurely 
Sudley,  I  hev  kem  ter  kerry  him  back  with  me.  Yer 
jewty  ain't  been  done  by  him,  an'  I'll  leave  him  a 
dweller  in  the  tents  o'  sin  no  longer." 

His  enthusiasm  had  carried  him  too  far.  Lau- 
relia's  face,  which  at  first  seemed  turning  to  stone 
as  she  gradually  apprehended  his  meaning  and  his 
mission,  changed  from  motionless  white  to  a  tremu 
lous  scarlet  while  he  spoke,  and  when  he  ceased  she 
retorted  herself  as  one  of  the  ungodly. 

"  Ye  mus'  be  mighty  ambitious  ter  kerry  away  a 
skin  full  o'  broken  bones !  Jes  let  Tyler  Sudley 
hear  ez  ye  called  his  house  the  tents  o'  the  ungodly, 
an'  that  ye  kem  hyar  a-faultin'  me,  an1  tellin'  me  ez 
I  'ain't  done  my  jewty  ennywhar  or  ennyhow !"  she 
exclaimed,  with  a  pride  which,  as  a  pious  saint,  she 
had  never  expected  to  feel  in  her  husband's  reputa- 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT    HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      209 

tion  as  a  high-tempered  man  and  a  "  mighty  handy 
fighter,"  and  with  implicit  reliance  upon  both  endow 
ments  in  her  quarrel. 

"  Only  in  a  speritchual  sense,  Sister  Sudley,"  Ne- 
hemiah  gasped,  as  he  made  haste  to  qualify  his  as 
severation.  "  I  only  charge  you  with  havin'  sp'iled 
the  boy  ;  ye  hev  sp'iled  him  through  kindness  ter 
him,  an1  not  ye  so  much  ez  Ty.  Ty  never  hed  so 
much  ez  a  dog  that  would  mind  him  !  His  dog 
wouldn't  answer  caM  nor  whistle  'thout  he  war  so 
disposed,  /never  faulted  ye,  Sister  Sudley;  'twar 
jes  Ty  I  faulted.  I  know  Ty." 

He  knew,  too,  that  it  was  safer  to  call  Ty  and  his 
doings  in  question,  big  and  formidable  and  belliger 
ent  though  he  was,  than  his  meek-mannered,  mel 
ancholy,  forlorn,  and  diminutive  wife.  Nehemiah 
rose  up  and  walked  back  and  forth  for  a  moment 
with  an  excited  face  and  a  bent  back,  and  a  sort  of 
rabbit-like  action.  "  Now,  I  put  it  to  you,  Sister 
Sudley,  air  Ty  a-makin1  that  thar  boy  plough  ter- 
day? — jes  be-you~ti-fulfa\&  weather  !" 

Sister  Sudley,  victorious,  having  regained  her 
iiormal  position  by  one  single  natural  impulse  of 
self-assertion,  not  as  a  religionist,  but  as  Tyler  Sud- 
ley's  wife,  and  hence  entitled  to  all  the  show  of  re 
spect  which  that  fact  unaided  could  command,  sat 
looking  at  him  with  a  changed  face — a  face  that 
seemed  twenty  years  younger ;  it  had  the  expres 
sion  it  wore  before  it  had  grown  pinched  and  as 
cetic  and  insistently  sorrowful ;  one  might  guess 
how  she  had  looked  when  Tyler  Sudley  first  went 
up  the  mountain  "a-courtinV  She  sought  to  as 
sume  no  other  stand-point.  Here  she  was  in- 


210     THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 

trenched.  She  shook  her  head  in  negation.  The 
affair  was  none  of  hers.  Ty  Sudley  could  take 
ample  care  of  it. 

Nehemiah  gave  a  little  skip  that  might  suggest 
a  degree  of  triumph.  "  Aha,  not  ploughin' !  But 
Ty  is  ploughin'.  I  seen  him  in  the  field.  An' 
Lee-yander  ain't  ploughin1 !  An'  how  did  I  know  ? 
Ez  I  war  a-ridin'  along  through  the  woods  this 
mornin'  I  kem  acrost  a  striplin'  lad  a-walkin' 
through  the  undergrowth  ez  onconsarned  ez  a 
killdee  an'  ez  nimble.  An'  under  his  chin  war  a 
fiddle,  an1  his  head  war  craned  down  ter  it."  He 
mimicked  the  attitude  as  he  stood  on  the  hearth. 
"  He  never  looked  up  wunst.  Away  he  walked, 
light  ez  a  plover,  an'  a-ping,  pang,  ping, pang"  in  a 
high  falsetto,  "  went  that  fiddle !  I  war  plumb 
'shamed  fur  the  critters  in  the  woods  ter  view  sech 
idle  sinfulness ,  a  ole  owe/,  a-blinkin'  down  out'n  a 
hollow  tree,  kem  ter  see  what  ping, pang,  ping,  pang 
meant,  an'  thar  war  a  rabbit  settin'  up  on  two  legs 
in  the  bresh,  an'  a  few  stray  razor-back  hawgs  ;  I 
tell  ye  I  war  mortified  'fore  even  sech  citizens  ez 
them,  an'  a  lazy,  impident-lookin'  dog  ez  followed 
him." 

"  How  did  ye  know  'twar  Lee-yander?"  demanded 
Mrs.  Sudley,  recognizing  the  description  perfectly, 
but  after  judicial  methods  requiring  strict  proof. 

"Oh-h !  by  the  fambly  favor,"  protested  the  gaunt 
and  hard-featured  Nehemiah,  capably.  "  I  knowed 
the  Yerby  eye." 

"  He  hev  got  his  mother's  eyes."  Mrs.  Sudley 
had  certainly  changed  her  stand-point  with  a  ven 
geance.  "  He  hev  got  his  mother's  be-yon-ti-ful 


THE  MOONSHINERS   AT    HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS      211 

blue  eyes  and  her  curling,  silken  brown  hair — sorter 
red  ;  little  Yerby  in  that,  mebbe  ;  but  sech  eyes,  an' 
sech  lashes,  an'  sech  fine  curling  hair  ez  none  o' 
yer  fambly  ever  hed,  or  ever  will." 

"  Mebbe  so.  I  never  seen  him  more'n  a  minit. 
But  he  might  ez  well  hev  a  be-you-ti-ful  curlin'  nose, 
like  the  elephint  in  the  show,  for  all  the  use  he  air, 
or  I  be  afeard  air  ever  likely  ter  be." 

Tyler  Sudley's  face  turned  gray,  despite  his  bellig 
erent  efficiencies,  when  his  wife,  hearing  the  clank 
of  the  ox -yoke  as  it  was  flung  down  in  the  shed 
outside,  divined  the  home-coming  of  the  ploughman 
and  his  team,  and  slipped  out  to  the  barn  with  her 
news.  She  realized,  with  a  strange  enlightenment 
as  to  her  own  mental  processes,  what  angry  jeal 
ousy  the  look  on  his  face  would  have  roused  in  her 
only  so  short  a  time  ago — jealousy  for  the  sake  of 
her  own  children,  that  any  loss,  any  grief,  should 
be  poignant  and  pierce  his  heart  save  for  them. 
Now  she  was  sorry  for  him ;  she  felt  with  him. 

But  as  he  continued  silent,  and  only  stared  at 
her  dumfounded  and  piteous,  she  grew  frightened 
— she  knew  not  of  what. 

"  Shucks,  Ty !"  she  exclaimed,  catching  him  by 
the  sleeve  with  the  impluse  to  rouse  him,  to  awaken 
him,  as  it  were,  to  his  own  old  familiar  identity ; 
"  ye  ain't  'feared  o'  that  thar  snaggle-toothed  skeer- 
crow  in  yander ;  he  would  be  plumb  comical  ef  he 
didn't  look  so  mean-natured  an'  sech  a  hyper- 
crite." 

He  gazed  at  her,  his  eyes  eloquent  with  pain. 

"  Laurely !"  he  gasped,  "  this  hyar  thing  plumb 


212      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 

knocks  me  down ;  it  jes  takes  the  breath  o'  life 
out'n  me  !" 

She  hesitated  for  a  moment.  Any  anxiety,  any 
trouble,  seemed  so  incongruous  with  the  sweet 
spring-tide  peace  in  the  air,  that  one  did  not  readily 
take  it  home  to  heart.  Hope  was  in  the  atmosphere 
like  an  essential  element ;  one  might  call  it  oxygen 
or  caloric  or  vitality,  according  to  the  tendency  of 
mind  and  the  habit  of  speech.  But  the  heart  knew 
it,  and  the  pulses  beat  strongly  responsive  to  it. 
Faith  ruled  the  world.  Some  tiny  bulbous  thing 
at  her  feet  that  had  impeded  her  step  caught  her 
attention.  It  was  coming  up  from  the  black  earth, 
and  the  buried  darkness,  and  the  chill  winter's 
torpor,  with  all  the  impulses  of  confidence  in  the 
light  without,  and  the  warmth  of  the  sun,  and  the 
fresh  showers  that  were  aggregating  in  the  clouds 
somewhere  for  its  nurture— a  blind  inanimate  thing 
like  that !  But  Tyler  Sudley  felt  none  of  it ;  the 
blow  had  fallen  upon  him,  stunning  him.  He 
stood  silent,  looking  gropingly  into  the  purple  dusk, 
veined  with  silver  glintings  of  the  moon,  as  if  he 
sought  to  view  in  the  future  some  event  which  he 
dreaded,  and  yet  shrank  to  see. 

She  had  rarely  played  the  consoler,  so  heavily 
had  she  and  all  her  griefs  leaned  on  his  supporting 
arm.  It  was  powerless  now.  She  perceived  this, 
all  dismayed  at  the  responsibility  that  had  fallen 
upon  her.  She  made  an  effort  to  rally  his  courage. 
She  had  more  faith  in  it  than  in  her  own. 

" 'Feard  o'  him!''1  she  exclaimed,  with  a  sharp 
tonic  note  of  satire.  "  Keni  in  an'  view  him." 

"  Laurely,"  he  quavered,  "  I  oughter  hev  got  it 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS      213 

down  in  writin'  from  him  ;  I  oughter  made  him  sign 
papers  agreein'  fur  me  ter  keep  the  boy  till  he 
growed  ter  be  his  own  man." 

She,  too,  grew  pale.  "Ye  ain't  meanin'  ter  let 
him  take  the  boy  sure  enough  !"  she  gasped. 

"I  moughtn't  be  able  ter  holp  it;  I  dun'no'  how 
the  law  stands.  He  air  kin  ter  Lee-yander,  an' 
mebbe  hev  got  the  bes'  right  ter  him." 

She  shivered  slightly ;  the  dew  was  falling,  and 
all  the  budding  herbage  was  glossed  with  a  silver 
glister.  The  shadows  were  sparse.  The  white 
branches  of  the  aspens  cast  only  the  symmetrical 
outline  of  the  tree  form  on  the  illumined  grass,  and 
seemed  scarcely  less  bare  than  in  winter,  but  on  one 
swaying  bough  the  mocking-bird  sang  all  the  joyous 
prophecies  of  the  spring  to  the  great  silver  moon 
that  made  his  gladsome  day  so  long. 

She  was  quick  to  notice  the  sudden  cessation  of 
his  song,  the  alert,  downward  poise  of  his  beautiful 
head,  his  tense  critical  attitude.  A  mimicking  whis 
tle  rose  on  the  air,  now  soft,  now  keen,  with  swift 
changes  and  intricate  successions  of  tones,  ending 
in  a  brilliant  borrowed  roulade,  delivered  with  a 
wonderful  velocity  and  elan.  The  long  tail  feath 
ers,  all  standing  stiffly  upward,  once  more  drooped ; 
the  mocking-bird  turned  his  head  from  side  to  side, 
then  lifting  his  full  throat  he  poured  forth  again  his 
incomparable,  superb,  infinitely  versatile  melody, 
fixing  his  glittering  eye  on  the  moon,  and  heeding 
the  futilely  ambitious  worldling  no  more. 

The  mimicking  sound  heralded  the  approach  of 
Leander.  Laurelia's  heart,  full  of  bitterness  for 
his  sake,  throbbed  tenderly  for  him.  Ah,  what  was 


214      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 

to  be  his  fate  !  What  unkind  lot  did  the  future 
hold  for  him  in  the  clutches  of  a  man  like  this  ! 
Suddenly  she  was  pitying  his  mother — her  own 
children,  how  safe  ! 

She  winced  to  tell  him  what  had  happened,  but 
she  it  was  who,  bracing  her  nerves,  made  the  dis 
closure,  for  Sudley  remained  silent,  the  end  of  the 
ox-yoke  in  his  trembling  hands,  his  head  bare  to 
the  moon  and  the  dew,  his  face  grown  lined  and  old. 

Leander  stood  staring  at  her  out  of  his  moonlit 
blue  eyes,  his  hat  far  back  on  the  brown  curls  she 
had  so  vaunted,  damp  and  crisp  and  clinging,  the 
low  limp  collar  of  his  unbleached  shirt  showing  his 
round  full  throat,  one  hand  resting  on  the  high  curb 
of  the  well,  the  other  holding  a  great  brown  gourd 
full  of  the  clear  water  which  he  had  busied  himself 
in  securing  while  she  sought  to  prepare  him  to 
hear  the  worst.  His  lips,  like  a  bent  bow  as  she 
thought,  were  red  and  still  moist  as  he  now  and 
then  took  the  gourd  from  them,  and  held  it  motion 
less  in  the  interest  of  her  narration,  that  indeed 
touched  him  so  nearly.  Then,  as  she  made  point 
after  point  clear  to  his  comprehension,  he  would 
once  more  lift  the  gourd  and  drink  deeply,  for  he 
had  had  an  active  day,  inducing  a  keen  thirst. 

She  had  been  preparing  herself  for  the  piteous 
spectacle  of  his  frantic  fright,  his  futile  reliance  on 
them  who  had  always  befriended  him,  his  callow 
forlorn  helplessness,  his  tears,  his  reproaches ;  she 
dreaded  them. 

He  was  silent  for  a  reflective  moment  when  she 
had  paused.  "  But  what's  he  want  with  me, 
Cap'n  ?"  he  suddenly  demanded.  "  Mought  know 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS      215 

I  warn't  industrious  in  the  field,  ez  he  seen  me 
off  a-fiddlin'  in  the  woods  whilst  Neighbor  war 
a-ploughin'." 

"  Mebbe  he  'lows  he  mought  make  ye  industrious 
an'  git  cornsider'ble  work  out'n  ye,"  she  faltered, 
flinching  for  him. 

After  another  refreshing  gulp  from  the  gourd  he 
canvassed  this  dispassionately.  "  Say  his  own 
chil'n  air  '  hearty  feeders  an'  hard  on  shoe-leather  ?' 
Takes  a  good  deal  o'  goadin'  ter  git  ploughin' 
enough  fur  the  wuth  o'  feed  out'n  a  toler'ble 
beastis  like  old  Blaze-face  thar,  don't  it,  Neigh 
bor  ? — an'  how  is  it  a-goin'  ter  be  with  a  human 
ez  mebbe  will  hold  back  an'  air  sot  agin  plough- 
in'  ennyhow,  an'  air  sorter  idle  by  profession  ? 
'Twould  gin  him  a  heap  o'  trouble — more'n  the 
ploughin'  an'  sech  would  be  wuth  —  a  heap  o1  trou 
ble."  Once  more  he  bowed  his  head  to  the  gourd. 

"  He  'lowed  ye  shouldn't  dwell  no  mo'  in  the  tents 
o'  sin.  He  seen  the  fiddle,  Lee ;  it's  all  complicat 
ed  with  the  fiddle,"  she  quavered,  very  near  tears 
of  vexation. 

He  lifted  a  smiling  moonlit  face ;  his  half-sup 
pressed  laugh  echoed  gurglingly  in  the  gourd. 
"  Cap'n,"  he  said,  reassuringly,  "  jes  let's  hear 
Uncle  Nehemiah  talk  some  mo',  an'  ef  I  can't  see 
no  mo'  likely  work  fur  me  'n  ploughin',  I'll  think 
myself  mighty  safe." 

They  felt  like  three  conspirators  as  after  supper 
they  drew  their  chairs  around  the  fire  with  the  un 
suspicious  Uncle  Nehemiah.  However,  Nehemiah 
Yerby  could  hardly  be  esteemed  unsuspicious  in 
any  point  of  view,  so  full  of  vigilant  craft  was  his 


2l6      THE  MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

intention  in  every  anticipation,  so  slyly  sanctimo 
nious  was  his  long  countenance. 

There  could  hardly  have  been  a  greater  contrast 
than  Tyler  Sudley's  aspect  presented.  His  can 
did  face  seemed  a  mirror  for  his  thought ;  he  had 
had  scant  experience  in  deception,  and  he  proved 
a  most  unlikely  novice  in  the  art.  His  features 
were  heavy  and  set ;  his  manner  was  brooding  and 
depressed ;  he  did  not  alertly  follow  the  conversa 
tion  ;  on  the  contrary,  he  seemed  oblivious  of  it  as 
his  full  dark  eyes  rested  absently  on  the  fire.  More 
than  once  he  passed  his  hand  across  them  with  a 
troubled,  harassed  manner,  and  he  sighed  heavily. 
For  which  his  co-conspirators  could  have  fallen 
upon  him.  How  could  he  be  so  dull,  so  forgetful 
of  all  save  the  fear  of  separation  from  the  boy 
whom  he  had  reared,  whom  he  loved  as  his  own 
son  ;  how  could  he  fail  to  know  that  a  jaunty,  as 
sured  mien  might  best  serve  his  interests  until  at 
any  rate  the  blow  had  fallen ;  why  should  he  wear 
the  insignia  of  defeat  before  the  strength  of  his 
claim  was  tested  ?  Assuredly  his  manner  was  cal 
culated  to  greatly  reinforce  Nehemiah  Yerby's  con 
fidence,  and  to  assist  in  eliminating  difficulties  in 
the  urging  of  his  superior  rights  and  the  carry 
ing  out  of  his  scheme.  Mrs.  Sudley's  heart  sank 
as  she  caught  a  significant  gleam  from  the  boy's 
eyes;  he  too  appreciated  this  disastrous  policy, 
this  virtual  surrender  before  a  blow  was  struck. 

"  An'  Ty  ain't  afeard  o'  bars,"  she  silently  com 
mented,  "nor  wolves,  nor  wind,  nor  lightning,  nor 
man  in  enny  kind  o'  a  free  fight;  but  bekase  he 
dun'no'  how  the  law  stands,  an'  air  afeard  the  law 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS     2\J 

inought  be  able  ter  take  Lee-yander,  he  jes  sets 
thar  ez  pitiful  ez  a  lost  kid,  fairly  ready  ter  blate 
aloud." 

She  descried  the  covert  triumph  twinkling 
among  the  sparse  light  lashes  and  "  crow-feet " 
about  Nehemiah's  eyes  as  he  droned  on  an  ever- 
lengthening  account  of  his  experiences  since  leav 
ing  the  county. 

"  It's  a  mighty  satisfyin'  thing  ter  be  well  off  in 
yearthly  goods  an'  chattels,"  said  Laurelia,  with 
sudden  inspiration.  "  Ty,  thar,  is  in  debt." 

For  Uncle  Nehemiah  had  been  dwelling  unctu 
ously  upon  the  extent  to  which  it  had  pleased  the 
Lord  to  prosper  him.  His  countenance  fell  sud 
denly.  His  discomfiture  in  her  unexpected  dis 
closure  was  twofold,  in  that  it  furnished  a  reason 
for  Tyler's  evident  depression  of  spirits,  demolishing 
the  augury  that  his  manner  had  afforded  as  to  the 
success  of  the  guest's  mission,  and  furthermore,  to 
Nehemiah's  trafficking  soul,  it  suggested  that  a 
money  consideration  might  be  exacted  to  mollify 
the  rigors  of  parting. 

For  Nehemiah  Yerby  had  risen  to  the  dignities, 
solvencies,  and  responsibilities  of  opening  a  store 
at  the  cross-roads  in  Kildeer  County.  It  was  a 
new  and  darling  enterprise  with  him,  and  his  mind 
and  speech  could  not  long  be  wiled  away  from  the 
subject.  This  abrupt  interjection  of  a  new  ele 
ment  into  his  cogitations  gave  him  pause,  and  he 
did  not  observe  the  sudden  rousing  of  Tyler  Sud- 
ley  from  his  revery,  and  the  glance  of  indignant 
reproach  which  he  cast  on  his  wife.  No  man,  how 
ever  meek,  or  however  bowed  down  with  sorrow, 


2l8     THE   MOONSHINERS   AT    HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

will  bear  unmoved  a  gratuitous  mention  of  his 
debts ;  it  seems  to  wound  him  with  all  the  rancor 
of  insult,  and  to  enrage  him  with  the  hopelessness 
of  adequate  retort  or  reprisal.  It  is  an  indignity, 
like  taunting  a  ghost  with  cock-crow,  or  exhorting 
a  clergyman  to  repentance.  He  flung  himself  all 
at  once  into  the  conversation,  to  bar  and  baffle  any 
renewed  allusion  to  that  subject,  and  it  was  acci 
dent  rather  than  intention  which  made  him  grasp 
Nehemiah  in  the  vise  of  a  quandary  also. 

"  Ye  say  ye  got  a  store  an'  a  stock  o'  truck,  Ne 
hemiah.  Air  ye  ekal  ter  keepin'  store  an'  sech  ?" 
he  demanded,  speculatively,  with  an  inquiring  and 
doubtful  corrugation  of  his  brows,  from  which  a 
restive  lock  of  hair  was  flung  backward  like  the 
toss  of  a  horse's  mane. 

"  I  reckon  so,"  Nehemiah  sparely  responded, 
blinking  at  him  across  the  fireplace. 

"An' ye  say  ye  hev  applied  fur  the  place  o'  post 
master?"  Tyler  prosed  on.  "All  that  takes  a 
power  o'  knowledge — readin'  an'  writin'  an'  cipher- 
in'  an'  sech.  How  air  ye  expectin'  to  hold  out, 
'kase  I  know  ye  never  hed  no  mo'  larnin1  than  me, 
an'  I  war  acquainted  with  ye  till  ye  war  thirty  years 
old  an'  better  ?" 

The  tenor  of  this  discourse  did  not  comport  with 
his  customary  suavity  and  tactful  courtesy  toward 
a  guest,  but  he  was  much  harassed  and  had  lost 
his  balance.  He  had  a  vague  idea  that  Mrs.  Sud- 
ley  hung  upon  the  flank  of  the  conversation  with  a 
complete  summary  of  amounts,  dates,  and  names 
of  creditors,  and  he  sought  to  balk  this  in  its  in 
ception.  Moreover,  his  forbearance  with  Nehe- 


THE   MOONSHINERS    AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS     219 

miah,  with  his  presence,  his  personality,  his  mis 
sion,  had  begun  to  wane.  Bitter  reflections  might 
suffice  to  fill  the  time  were  he  suffered  to  be  silent ; 
but  since  a  part  in  the  conversation  had  been  made 
necessary,  he  had  for  it  no  honeyed  words. 

"  I'd  make  about  ez  fit  a  postmaster,  I  know,  ez 
that  thar  old  owe/  a-hootin'  out  yander.  I  could 
look  smart  an'  sober  like  him,  but  that's  'bout  all 
the  fur  my  school-larnin'  kerried  me,  an'  yourn 
didn't  reach  ter  the  nex'  mile-post  —  an'  that  I 
know." 

Nehemiah's  thin  lips  seemed  dry.  More  than 
once  his  tongue  appeared  along  their  verges  as  he 
nervously  moistened  them.  His  small  eyes  had 
brightened  with  an  excited  look,  but  he  spoke  very 
slowly,  and  to  Laurelia  it  seemed  guardedly. 

"  I  tuk  ter  my  book  artervvard,  Brother  Sudley. 
I  applied  myself  ter  larnin'  vigorous.  Bein'  ez  I 
seen  the  Lord's  hand  war  liberal  with  the  gifts  o' 
this  worl',  I  wanted  ter  stir  myself  ter  desarve  the 
good  things." 

Sudley  brought  down  the  fore-legs  of  his  chair 
to  the  floor  with  a  thump.  Despite  his  anxiety  a 
slow  light  of  ridicule  began  to  kindle  on  his  face ; 
his  curling  lip  showed  his  strong  white  teeth. 

"  Waal,  by  gum !  ye  mus'  hev  been  a  sight  ter  be 
seen !  Ye,  forty  or  fifty  years  old,  a-settin'  on  the 
same  seat  with  the  chil'n  at  the  deestric'  school,  an' 
a-competin'  with  the  leetle  tadpoles  fur  '  Baker  an' 
Shady  '  an  sech  !" 

He  was  about  to  break  forth  with  a  guffaw  of 
great  relish  when  Nehemiah  spoke  hastily,  fore 
stalling  the  laughter. 


220      THE   MOONSHINERS    AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

"Naw;  Abner  Sage  war  thar  fur  a  good  while 
las'  winter  a-visitin'  his  sister,  an'  he  kem  an'  gin 
me  lessons  an'  set  me  copies  thar  at  my  house,  an' 
I  larnt  a  heap." 

Leander  lifted  his  head  suddenly.  The  amount 
of  progress  possible  to  this  desultory  and  limited 
application  he  understood  only  too  well.  He  had 
not  learned  so  much  himself  to  be  unaware  how 
much  in  time  and  labor  learning  costs.  The  others 
perceived  no  incongruity.  Sudley's  face  was  florid 
with  pride  and  pleasure,  and  his  wife's  reflected  the 
glow. 

"  Ab  Sage  at  the  cross-roads!  Then  he  mus'  hev 
tole  ye  'bout  Lee-yander  hyar,  an'  his  larnin'.  Ab 
tole,  I  know." 

Nehemiah  drew  his  breath  in  quickly.  His 
twinkling  eyes  sent  out  the  keenest  glance  of 
suspicion,  but  the  gay,  affectionate,  vaunting  laugh, 
as  Tyler  Sudley  turned  around  and  clapped  the 
boy  a  ringing  blow  on  his  slender  shoulder,  ex 
pressed  only  the  plenitude  of  his  simple  vain 
glory. 

"  Lee-yander  hyar  knows  it  all!"  he  boasted. 
"Old  Ab  himself  don't  know  no  mo'!  I'll  be 
bound  old  Ab  went  a-braggin' — hey,  Lee-yander?" 

But  the  boy  shrank  away  a  trifle,  and  his  smile 
was  mechanical  as  he  silently  eyed  his  relative. 

"  Ab  'lowed  he  war  tur'ble  disobejient,"  said  Ne 
hemiah,  after  a  pause,  and  cautiously  allowing  him 
self  to  follow  in  the  talk,  "an'  gi'n  over  ter  playin' 
the  fiddle."  He  hesitated  for  a  moment,  longing 
to  stigmatize  its  ungodliness ;  but  the  recollection 
of  Tyler  Sudley's  uncertain  temper  decided  him, 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS      221 

and  he  left  it  unmolested.  "  But  Ab  'lowed  ye  war 
middlin'  quick  at  figgers,  Lee-yander  —  middlin' 
quick  at  figgers  !" 

Leander,  still  silent  and  listening,  flushed  slightly. 
This  measured  praise  was  an  offence  to  him ;  but 
he  looked  up  brightly  and  obediently  when  his 
uncle  wagged  an  uncouthly  sportive  head  (Nehe- 
iniah's  anatomy  lent  itself  to  the  gay  and  graceful 
with  much  reluctance),  thrust  his  hands  into  his 
pockets,  and,  tilting  himself  back  in  his  chair,  con 
tinued  : 

"  I'll  try  ye,  sonny — I'll  try  ye.  How  much  air 
nine  times  seven  ? — nine  times  seven  ?" 

"  Forty-two !"  replied  the  boy,  with  a  bright, 
docile  countenance  fixed  upon  his  relative. 

There  was  a  pause.  "  Right !"  exclaimed  Nehe- 
miah,  to  the  relief  of  Sudley  and  his  wife,  who  had 
trembled  during  the  pause,  for  it  seemed  so  threat 
ening.  They  smiled  at  each  other,  unconscious  that 
the  examination  meant  aught  more  serious  than  a 
display  of  their  prodigy's  learning. 

"An',  now,  how  much  air  twelve  times  eight?" 
demanded  Nehemiah. 

"Sixty-six  f  came  the  answer,  quick  as  lightning. 

"  Right,  sir,  every  time !"  cried  Nehemiah  with  a 
glow  of  genuine  exultation,  as  he  brought  down 
the  fore-legs  of  the  chair  to  the  floor,  and  the  two 
Sudleys  laughed  aloud  with  pleasure. 

Leander  saw  them  all  distorted  and  grimacing 
while  the  room  swam  round.  The  scheme  was 
clear  enough  to  him  now.  The  illiterate  Nehe 
miah,  whose  worldly  prosperity  had  outstripped  his 
mental  qualifications,  had  bethought  himself  of  fill- 


222      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 

ing  the  breach  with  his  nephew,  given  away  as 
surplusage  in  his  burdensome  infancy,  but  trans 
formed  into  a  unique  utility  under  the  tutelage  of 
Abner  Sage.  It  was  his  boasting  of  his  froward 
pupil,  doubtless,  that  had  suggested  the  idea,  and 
Leander  understood  now  that  he  was  to  do  the 
work  of  the  store  and  the  post-office  under  the 
nominal  incumbency  of  this  unlettered  lout.  Had 
the  whole  transaction  been  open  and  acknowl 
edged,  Leander  would  have  had  scant  appetite  for 
the  work  under  this  master ;  but  he  revolted  at  the 
flimsy,  contemptible  sham  ;  he  bitterly  resented  the 
innuendoes  against  the  piety  of  the  Sudleys,  not 
that  he  cared  for  piety,  save  in  the  abstract ;  he 
was  daunted  by  the  brutal  ignorance,  the  doltish 
inefficiency  of  the  imposture  that  had  so  readily 
accepted  his  patently  false  answers  to  the  simple 
questions.  He  had  a  sort  of  crude  reverence  for 
education,  and  it  had  seemed  to  him  a  very  serious 
matter  to  take  such  liberties  with  the  multiplica 
tion  table.  He  valued,  too,  with  a  boy's  stalwart 
vanity,  his  reputation  for  great  learning,  and  he 
would  not  have  lightly  jeopardized  it  did  he  not 
esteem  the  crisis  momentous.  He  knew  not  what 
he  feared.  The  fraud  of  the  intention,  the  ground 
less  claim  to  knowledge,  made  Nehemiah's  scheme 
seem  multifariously  guilty  in  some  sort ;  while 
Tyler  Sudley  and  his  wife,  albeit  no  wiser  mathe 
matically,  had  all  the  sanctions  of  probity  in  their 
calm,  unpretending  ignorance. 

"  Ef  Cap'n  or  Neighbor  wanted  ter  run  a  post- 
office  on  my  larnin',  or  ter  keep  store,  they'd  be 
welcome ;  but  I  won't  play  stalkin'-horse  fur  that 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT    HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      223 

thar  man's  still-hunt,  sure  ez  shootin',''  he  said  to 
himself. 

The  attention  which  he  bent  upon  the  conver 
sation  thenceforth  was  an  observation  of  its  effect 
rather  than  its  matter.  He  saw  that  he  was  alone 
in  his  discovery.  Neither  Sudley  nor  his  wife  had 
perceived  any  connection  between  the  store,  the 
prospective  post-office,  and  the  desire  of  the  illiter 
ate  would-be  postmaster  to  have  his  erudite  neph 
ew  restored  to  his  care. 

It  may  be  that  the  methods  of  his  "  Neighbor" 
and  the  "  Captain "  in  the  rearing  of  Leander, 
the  one  with  unbridled  leniency,  the  other  with 
spurious  severity  and  affected  indifference,  had 
combined  to  foster  self-reliance  and  decision  of 
character,  or  it  may  be  that  these  qualities  were 
inherent  traits.  At  all  events,  he  encountered  the 
emergency  without  an  instant's  hesitation.  He 
felt  no  need  of  counsel.  He  had  no  doubts.  He 
carried  to  his  pallet  in  the  roof-room  no  vacillations 
and  no  problems.  His  resolve  was  taken.  For  a 
time,  as  he  listened  to  the  movements  below-stairs, 
the  sound  of  voices  still  rose,  drowsy  as  the  hour 
waxed  late ;  the  light  that  flickered  through  the 
cracks  in  the  puncheon  flooring  gradually  dulled, 
and  presently  a  harsh  grating  noise  acquainted  him 
with  the  fact  that  Sudley  was  shovelling  the  ashes 
over  the  embers ;  then  the  tent-like  attic  was  illu 
mined  only  by  the  moonlight  admitted  through  the 
little  square  window  at  the  gable  end — so  silent, 
so  still,  it  seemed  that  it  too  slept  like  the  silent 
house.  The  winds  slumbered  amidst  the  mute 
woods  ;  a  bank  of  cloud  that  he  could  see  from 


224      THE   MOONSHINERS  AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 

his  lowly  couch  lay  in  the  south  becalmed.  The 
bird's  song  had  ceased.  It  seemed  to  him  as  he 
lifted  himself  on  his  elbow  that  he  had  never  known 
the  world  so  hushed.  The  rustle  of  the  quilt  of 
gay  glazed  calico  was  of  note  in  the  quietude ;  the 
impact  of  his  bare  foot  on  the  floor  was  hardly  a 
sound,  rather  an  annotation  of  his  weight  and  his 
movement ;  yet  in  default  of  all  else  the  sense  of 
hearing  marked  it.  His  scheme  seemed  impractica 
ble  as  for  an  instant  he  wavered  at  the  head  of  the 
ladder  that  served  as  a  stairway ;  the  next  moment 
his  foot  was  upon  the  rungs,  his  light,  lithe  figure 
slipping  down  it  like  a  shadow.  The  room  below, 
all  eclipsed  in  a  brown  and  dusky-red  medium,  the 
compromise  between  light  and  darkness  that  the 
presence  of  the  embers  fostered,  was  vaguely  re 
vealed  to  him.  He  was  hardly  sure  whether  he  saw 
the  furniture  all  in  place,  or  whether  he  knew  its 
arrangement  so  well  that  he  seemed  to  see.  Sud 
denly,  as  he  laid  his  hand  on  the  violin  on  the  wall, 
it  became  visible,  its  dark  red  wood  richly  glowing 
against  the  brown  logs  and  the  tawny  clay  daubing. 
A  tiny  white  flame  had  shot  up  in  the  midst  of  the 
gray  ashes,  as  he  stood  with  the  cherished  object 
in  his  cautious  hand,  his  excited  eyes,  dilated  and 
expectant,  searching  the  room  apprehensively,  while 
a  vague  thrill  of  a  murmur  issued  from  the  instru 
ment,  as  if  the  spirit  of  music  within  it  had  been 
wakened  by  his  touch — too  vague,  too  faintly  elu 
sive  for  the  dormant  and  somewhat  dull  perceptions 
of  Nehemiah  Yerby,  calmly  slumbering  in  state  in 
the  best  room. 

The  faint  jet  of  flame  was  withdrawn  in  the  ashes 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS       225 

as  suddenly  as  it  had  shot  forth,  and  in  the  ensuing 
darkness,  deeper  for  the  contrast  with  that  momen 
tary  illumination,  it  was  not  even  a  shadow  that 
deftly  mounted  the  ladder  again  and  emerged  into 
the  sheeny  twilight  of  the  moonlit  roof-room.  Lean- 
der  was  somehow  withheld  for  a  moment  motionless 
at  the  window ;  it  may  have  been  by  compunction  ; 
it  may  have  been  by  regret,  if  it  be  possible  to  the 
very  young  to  definitely  feel  either.  There  was  an 
intimation  of  pensive  farewell  in  his  large  illu 
mined  eyes  as  they  rested  on  the  circle  of  famil 
iar  things  about  him — the  budding  trees,  the  well, 
with  its  great  angular  sweep  against  the  sky,  the 
still  sward,  the  rail-fences  glistening  with  the  dew, 
the  river  with  the  moonlight  in  a  silver  blazonry 
on  its  lustrous  dark  surface,  the  encompassing 
shadows  of  the  gloomy  mountains.  There  was  no 
sound,  not  even  among  the  rippling  shallows  ;  he 
could  hear  naught  but  the  pain  of  parting  throb 
bing  in  his  heart,  and  from  the  violin  a  faint  con 
tinuous  susurrus,  as  if  it  murmured  half -asleep 
memories  of  the  melodies  that  had  thrilled  its 
waking  moments.  It  necessitated  careful  hand 
ling  as  he  deftly  let  himself  out  of  the  window, 
the  bow  held  in  his  mouth,  the  instrument  in  one 
arm,  while  the  other  hand  clutched  the  boughs  of 
a  great  holly-tree  close  beside  the  house.  It  was 
only  the  moonlight  on  those  smooth,  lustrous  leaves, 
but  it  seemed  as  if  smiling  white  faces  looked 
suddenly  down  from  among  the  shadows  :  at  this 
lonely  hour,  with  none  awake  to  see,  what  strange 
things  may  there  not  be  astir  in  the  world,  what  un 
measured,  unknown  forces,  sometimes  felt  through 
15 


226      THE   MOONSHINERS  AT    HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

the  dulling  sleep  of  mortals,  and  then  called  dreams  ! 
As  he  stood  breathless  upon  the  ground  the  wind 
awoke.  He  heard  it  race  around  the  corner  of  the 
house,  bending  the  lilac  bushes,  and  then  it  softly 
buffeted  him  full  in  the  face  and  twirled  his  hat  on 
the  ground.  As  he  stooped  to  pick  it  up  he  heard 
whispers  and  laughter  in  the  lustrous  boughs  of 
the  holly,  and  the  gleaming  faces  shifted  with  the 
shadows.  He  looked  fearfully  over  his  shoul 
der  ;  the  rising  wind  might  waken  some  one  of  the 
household.  His  "Neighbor"  was,  he  knew,  solici 
tous  about  the  weather,  and  suspicious  of  its  in 
tentions  lest  it  not  hold  fine  till  all  the  oats  be 
sown.  A  pang  wrung  his  heart ;  he  remembered 
the  long  line  of  seasons  when,  planting  corn  in  the 
pleasant  spring  days,  his  "Neighbor"  had  opened 
the  furrow  with  the  plough,  and  the  "Captain" 
had  followed,  dropping  the  grains,  and  he  had 
brought  up  the  rear  with  his  hoe,  covering  them 
over,  while  the  clouds  floated  high  in  the  air,  and 
the  mild  sun  shone,  and  the  wind  kept  the  shadows 
a-flicker,  and  the  blackbird  and  the  crow,  com 
placently  and  craftily  watching  them  from  afar, 
seemed  the  only  possible  threatening  of  evil  in  all 
the  world.  He  hastened  to  stiffen  his  resolve. 
He  had  need  of  it.  Tyler  Sudley  had  said  that 
he  did  not  know  how  the  law  stood,  and  for  him 
self,  he  was  not  willing  to  risk  his  liberty  on  it. 
He  gazed  apprehensively  upon  the  little  batten 
shutter  of  the  window  of  the  room  where  Nehe- 
miah  Yerby  slept,  expecting  to  see  it  slowly  swing 
open  and  disclose  him  there.  It  did  not  stir,  and 
gathering  resolution  from  the  terrors  that  had  be- 


THE  MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS      227 

set  him  when  he  fancied  his  opportunity  threat 
ened,  he  ran  like  a  frightened  deer  fleetly  down 
the  road,  and  plunged  into  the  dense  forest.  The 
wind  kept  him  company,  rollicking,  quickening, 
coming  and  going  in  fitful  gusts.  He  heard  it  die 
away,  but  now  and  again  it  was  rustling  among 
a  double  file  of  beech-trees  all  up  the  mountain 
side.  He  saw  the  commotion  in  their  midst,  the 
effect  of  swift  movement  as  the  scant  foliage  flut 
tered,  then  the  white  branches  of  the  trees  all 
a-swaying  like  glistening  arms  flung  upward,  as  if 
some  bevy  of  dryads  sped  up  the  hill  in  elusive 
rout  through  the  fastnesses. 

The  next  day  ushered  in  a  tumult  and  excite 
ment  unparalleled  in  the  history  of  the  little  log- 
cabin.  When  Leander's  absence  was  discovered, 
and  inquiry  of  the  few  neighbors  and  search  of 
the  vicinity  proved  fruitless,  the  fact  of  his  flight 
and  its  motive  were  persistently  forced  upon  Ne- 
hemiah  Yerby's  reluctant  perceptions,  with  the  de 
struction  of  his  cherished  scheme  as  a  necessary 
sequence.  With  some  wild  craving  for  vengeance 
he  sought  to  implicate  Sudley  as  accessory  to  the 
mysterious  disappearance.  He  found  some  small 
measure  of  solace  in  stumping  up  and  down  the 
floor  before  the  hearth,  furiously  railing  at  the  ab 
sent  host,  for  Sudley  had  not  yet  relinquished  the 
bootless  quest,  and  indignantly  upbraiding  the  for 
lorn,  white-faced,  grief-stricken  Laurelia,  who  sat 
silent  and  stony,  her  faded  eyes  on  the  fire,  heed 
less  of  his  words.  She  held  in  her  lap  sundry 
closely-rolled  knitted  balls — the  boy's  socks  that 


228     THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

she  had  so  carefully  made  and  darned.  A  pile  of 
his  clothing  lay  at  her  feet.  He  had  carried  noth 
ing  but  his  fiddle  and  the  clothes  he  stood  in,  and 
if  she  had  had  more  tears  she  could  have  wept  for 
his  improvidence,  for  the  prospective  tatters  and 
rents  that  must  needs  befall  him  in  that  unknown 
patchless  life  to  which  he  had  betaken  himself. 

Nehemiah  Yerby  argued  that  it  was  Sudley  who 
had  prompted  the  whole  thing  ;  he  had  put  the  boy 
up  to  it,  for  Leander  was  not  so  lacking  in  feeling 
as  to  flee  from  his  own  blood-relation.  But  he 
would  set  the  law  to  spy  them  out.  He  would  be 
back  again,  and  soon. 

He  may  have  thought  better  of  this  presently, 
for  he  was  in  great  haste  to  be  gone  when  Tyler 
Sudley  returned,  and  to  his  amazement  in  a  coun 
terpart  frame  of  mind,  charging  Nehemiah  with  the 
responsibility  of  the  disaster.  It  was  strange  to 
Laurelia  that  she,  who  habitually  strove  to  fix  her 
mind  on  religious  things,  should  so  relish  the  as 
pect  of  Ty  Sudley  in  his  secular  rage  on  this  occa 
sion. 

"  Ye  let  we-uns  hev  him  whilst  so  leetle  an'  help 
less,  but  now  that  he  air  so  fine  growed  an'  robus 
tious  ye  want  ter  git  some  work  out'n  him,  an'  he 
hev  runned  away  an'  tuk  ter  the  woods  tarrified  by 
the  very  sight  of  ye,"  he  averred.  "  He'll  never 
kem  back ;  no,  he'll  never  kem  back ;  fur  he'll  'low 
ez  ye  would  kem  an'  take  him  home  with  you  ;  an' 
now  the  Lord  only  knows  whar  he  is,  an'  what  will 
become  of  him." 

His  anger  and  his  tumultuous  grief,  his  wild,  ir 
repressible  anxiety  for  Leander's  safety,  convinced 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      22Q 

the  crafty  Nehemiah  that  he  was  no  party  to  the 
boy's  scheme.  Sudley's  sorrow  was  not  of  the 
kind  that  renders  the  temper  pliable,  and  when  Ne 
hemiah  sought  to  point  a  moral  in  the  absence  of 
the  violin,  and  for  the  first  time  in  Sudley's  pres 
ence  protested  that  he  desired  to  save  Leander 
from  that  device  of  the  devil,  the  master  of  the 
house  shook  his  inhospitable  fist  very  close  indeed 
to  his  guest's  nose,  and  Yerby  was  glad  enough  to 
follow  that  feature  unimpaired  out  to  his  horse  at 
the  bars,  saying  little  more. 

He  aired  his  views,  however,  at  each  house  where 
he  made  it  convenient  to  stop  on  his  way  home, 
and  took  what  comfort  there  might  be  in  the  role 
of  martyr.  Leander  was  unpopular  in  several  lo 
calities,  and  was  esteemed  a  poor  specimen  of  the 
skill  of  the  Sudleys  in  rearing  children.  He  had 
been  pampered  and  spoiled,  according  to  general 
report,  and  more  than  one  of  his  successive  inter 
locutors  were  polite  enough  to  opine  that  the 
change  to  Nehemiah's  charge  would  have  been  a 
beneficent  opportunity  for  much-needed  discipline. 
Nehemiah  was  not  devoid  of  some  skill  in  interrog 
atory.  He  contrived  to  elicit  speculations  without 
giving  an  intimation  of  unduly  valuing  the  an 
swer. 

"  He's  'mongst  the  moonshiners,  I  reckon,"  was 
the  universal  surmise.  "  He'll  be  hid  mighty  safe 
'mongst  them." 

For  where  the  still  might  be,  or  who  was  engaged 
in  the  illicit  business,  was  even  a  greater  mystery 
than  Leander's  refuge.  Nothing  more  definite 
could  be  elicited  than  a  vague  rumor  that  some 


230     THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 

such  work  was  in  progress  somewhere  along  the 
many  windings  of  Hide-and-Seek  Creek. 

Nehemiah  Yerby  had  never  been  attached  to 
temperance  principles,  and,  commercially  speaking, 
he  had  thought  it  possible  that  whiskey  on  which  no 
tax  had  been  paid  might  be  more  profitably  dis 
pensed  at  his  store  than  that  sold  under  the  sanc 
tions  of  the  government.  These  considerations, 
however,  were  as  naught  in  view  of  the  paralysis 
which  his  interests  and  schemes  had  suffered  in 
Leander's  flight.  He  dwelt  with  dismay  upon  the 
possibility  that  he  might  secure  the  postmastership 
without  the  capable  assistant  whose  services  were 
essential.  In  this  perverse  sequence  of  events  dis 
aster  to  his  application  was  more  to  be  desired 
than  success.  He  foresaw  himself  browbeaten, 
humiliated,  detected,  a  butt  for  the  ridicule  of  the 
community,  his  pretensions  in  the  dust,  his  pitiful 
imposture  unmasked.  And  beyond  these  aesthetic 
misfortunes,  the  substantial  emoluments  of  "keepin1 
store,"  with  a  gallant  sufficiency  of  arithmetic  to 
regulate  prices  and  profits,  were  vanishing  like  the 
elusive  matutinal  haze  before  the  noontide  sun. 
Nehemiah  Yerby  groaned  aloud,  for  the  financial 
stress  upon  his  spirit  was  very  like  physical  pain. 
And  in  this  inauspicious  moment  he  bethought 
himself  of  the  penalties  of  violating  the  Internal 
Revenue  Laws  of  the  United  States. 

Now  it  has  been  held  by  those  initiated  into  such 
mysteries  that  there  is  scant  affinity  between  whis 
key  and  water.  Nevertheless,  in  this  connection, 
Nehemiah  Yerby  developed  an  -absorbing  interest 
in  the  watercourses  of  the  coves  and  adjacent 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      23! 

mountains,  especially  their  more  remote  and  se 
questered  tributaries.  He  shortly  made  occasion 
to  meet  the  county  surveyor  and  ply  him  with  ques 
tions  touching  the  topography  of  the  vicinity,  cloak 
ing  the  real  motive  under  the  pretence  of  an  inter 
est  in  water-power  sufficient  and  permanent  enough 
for  the  sawing  of  lumber,  and  professing  to  con 
template  the  erection  of  a  saw-mill  at  the  most 
eligible  point.  The  surveyor  had  his  especial  van 
ity,  and  it  was  expressed  in  his  frequent  boast  that 
he  carried  a  complete  map  of  the  county  graven 
upon  his  brain  ;  he  was  wont  to  esteem  it  a  gra 
cious  opportunity  when  a  casual  question  in  a 
group  of  loungers  enabled  him  to  display  his  famil 
iarity  with  every  portion  of  his  rugged  and  moun 
tainous  region,  which  was  indeed  astonishing,  even 
taking  into  consideration  his  incumbency  for  a 
number  of  terms,  aided  by  a  strong  head  for  local 
ity.  Nehemiah  Yerby's  scheme  was  incalculably 
favored  by  this  circumstance,  but  he  found  it  un 
expectedly  difficult  to  support  the  figment  which 
he  had  propounded  as  to  his  intentions.  Fiction 
is  one  of  the  fine  arts,  and  a  mere  amateur  like 
Nehemiah  is  apt  to  fail  in  point  of  consistency. 
He  was  inattentive  while  the  surveyor  dilated  on 
the  probable  value,  the  accessibility,  and  the  rel 
ative  height  of  the  "fall"  of  the  various  sites,  and 
their  available  water-power,  and  he  put  irrelevant 
queries  concerning  ineligible  streams  in  other  lo 
calities.  No  man  comfortably  mounted  upon  his 
hobby  relishes  an  interruption.  The  surveyor  would 
stop  with  a  sort  of  bovine  surprise,  and  break  out 
in  irritable  parenthesis. 


232      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

"That  branch  on  the  t'other  side  o'  Panther 
Ridge  ?  Why,  man  alive,  that  thread  o'  water 
wouldn't  turn  a  spider  web." 

Nehemiah,  quaking  under  the  glance  of  his  keen 
questioning  eye,  would  once  more  lapse  into  si 
lence,  while  the  surveyor,  loving  to  do  what  he 
could  do  well,  was  lured  on  in  his  favorite  subject 
by  the  renewed  appearance  of  receptivity  in  his 
listener. 

"  Waal,  ez  I  war  a-sayin',  I  know  every  furlong 
o'  the  creeks  once  down  in  the  Cove,  an'  all  their 
meanderings,  an'  the  best  part  o'  them  in  the  hills 
amongst  the  laurel  and  the  wildernesses.  But  now 
the  ways  of  sech  a  stream  ez  Hide-an'-Seek  Creek 
are  past  finding  out.  It's  a  *  sinking  creek,'  you 
know ;  goes  along  with  a  good  volume  and  a  swift 
current  for  a  while  to  the  west,  then  disappears 
into  the  earth,  an1  ain't  seen  fur  five  mile,  then 
comes  out  agin  running  due  north,  makes  a  tre- 
menjious  jump — the  Hoho-hebee  Falls— then  pops 
into  the  ground  agin,  an'  ain't  seen  no  more  for 
ever,"  he  concluded,  dramatically. 

"  How  d'ye  know  it's  the  same  creek  ?"  de 
manded  Nehemiah,  sceptically,  and  with  a  wrink 
ling  brow. 

"  By  settin'  somethin'  afloat  on  it  before  it  sinks 
into  the  ground — a  piece  of  marked  bark  or  a 
shingle  or  the  like — an'  finding  it  agin  after  the 
stream  comes  out  of  the  caves,"  promptly  replied 
the  man  of  the  compass,  with  a  triumphant  snap  of 
the  eye,  as  if  he  entertained  a  certain  pride  in  the 
vagaries  of  his  untamed  mountain  friend.  "  No 
body  knows  how  often  it  disappears,  nor  where  it 


THE    MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS      233 

rises,  nor  where  it  goes  at  last.  It's  got  dozens  of 
fust-rate  millin'  sites,  but  then  it's  too  fur  off  fur 
you  ter  think  about." 

"Oh  no  'tain't!"  exclaimed  Nehemiah,  suddenly. 

The  surveyor  stared.  "Why,  you  ain't  thinkin' 
'bout  movin'  up  inter  the  wilderness  ter  live,  an'  ye 
jes  applied  fur  the  post-office  down  at  the  cross 
roads  ?  Ye  can't  run  the  post-office  thar  an'  a  saw 
mill  thirty  mile  away  at  the  same  time." 

Nehemiah  was  visibly  disconcerted.  His  wrinkled 
face  showed  the  flush  of  discomfiture,  but  his  craft 
rallied  to  the  emergency. 

"  Moughtn't  git  the  post-office,  arter  all's  come 
an'  gone.  Nothin'  is  sartin  in  this  vale  o'  tears." 

"  An'  ye  air  goin'  ter  take  ter  the  woods  ef  ye 
don't  ?"  demanded  the  surveyor,  incredulously. 
"Thought  ye  war  goin1  ter  keep  store  ?" 

"Waal,  I  dun'no' ;  jes  talkin'  round,"  said  Ne 
hemiah,  posed  beyond  recuperation.  "  I  mus'  be 
a-joggin',  ennyhow.  Time's  a-wastin'." 

As  he  made  off  hastily  in  the  direction  of  his 
house,  for  this  conversation  had  taken  place  at  the 
blacksmith's  shop  at  the  cross-roads,  the  surveyor 
gazed  after  him  much  mystified. 

"  What  is  that  old  fox  slyin'  round  after  ?  He 
ain't  studyin'  'bout  no  saw-mill,  inquirin'  round 
about  all  the  out-o'-the-way  water-power  in  the  ken- 
try  fifty  mile  from  where  he  b'longs.  He's  a  heap 
likelier  to  be  goin'  ter  start  a  wild-cat  still  in  them 
wild  places— git  his  whiskey  cheap  ter  sell  in  his 
store." 

He  shook  his  head  sagely  once  for  all,  for  the 
surveyor's  mind  was  of  the  type  prompt  in  reach- 


236      THE    MOONSHINERS    AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

heard  so  much  in  the  Cove  and  saw  so  little.  A 
lapse  of  caution,  an  inconsiderate  movement,  and 
he  might  be  captured  and  dealt  with  as  a  spy  and 
informer. 

Nevertheless  his  discovery  was  of  scant  value 
unless  he  utilized  it  further.  He  had  always  be 
lieved  that  his  nephew  had  fled  to  the  secret  haunts 
of  the  moonshiners.  Now  he  only  knew  it  the 
more  surely ;  and  what  did  this  avail  him,  and  how 
aid  in  the  capture  of  the  recusant  clerk  and  assist 
ant  postmaster  ?  He  hesitated  a  moment ;  then  fix 
ing  the  spot  in  his  mind  by  the  falling  of  a  broad 
crystal  sheet  of  water  from  a  ledge  some  forty  feet 
high,  by  a  rotting  log  at  its  base  that  seemed  to 
rise  continually,  although  the  moving  cataract  ap 
peared  motionless,  by  certain  trees  and  their  rel 
ative  position,  and  the  blue  peaks  on  a  distant 
skyey  background  of  a  faint  cameo  yellow,  he 
slowly  turned  his  horse's  rein  and  took  his  way  out 
of  danger.  It  was  chiefly  some  demonstration  on 
the  animal's  part  that  he  had  feared.  A  snort,  a 
hoof-beat,  a  whinny  would  betray  him,  and  very 
liable  was  the  animal  to  any  of  these  expressions. 
One  realizes  how  unnecessary  is  speech  for  the  ex 
position  of  opinion  when  brought  into  contradictory 
relations  with  the  horse  which  one  rides  or  drives. 
All  day  had  this  animal  snorted  his  doubts  of  his 
master's  sanity;  all  day  had  he  protested  against 
these  aimless,  fruitless  rambles ;  all  day  had  he  held 
back  with  a  high  head  and  a  hard  mouth,  while  whip 
and  spur  pressed  him  through  laurel  almost  im 
penetrable,  and  through  crevices  of  crags  almost 
impassable.  For  were  there  not  all  the  fair  roads 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS      237 

of  the  county  to  pace  and  gallop  upon  if  one  must 
needs  be  out  and  jogging !  Unseen  objects,  vague 
ly  discerned  to  be  moving  in  the  undergrowth  af 
frighted  the  old  plough-horse  of  the  levels — infinite 
ly  reassured  and  whinnying  with  joyful  relief  when 
the  head  of  horned  cattle  showed  presently  as  the 
cause  of  the  commotion.  He  would  have  given 
much  a  hundred  times  that  day,  and  he  almost  said 
so  a  hundred  times,  too,  to  be  at  home,  with  the 
old  bull-tongue  plough  behind  him,  running  the 
straight  rational  furrow  in  the  good  bare  open  field, 
so  mellow  for  corn,  lying  in  the  sunshine,  inviting 
planting. 

"  Ef  I  git  ye  home  wunst  more,  I'll  be  bound  I'll 
leave  ye  thar,"  Nehemiah  said,  ungratefully,  as  they 
wended  their  way  along ;  for  without  the  horse  he 
could  not  have  traversed  the  long  distances  of  his 
search,  however  unwillingly  the  aid  was  given. 

He  annotated  his  displeasure  by  a  kick  in  the 
ribs ;  and  when  the  old  equine  farmer  perceived  that 
they  were  absolutely  bound  binward,  and  that  their 
aberrations  were  over  for  the  present,  he  struck  a 
sharp  gait  that  would  have  done  honor  to  his  youth 
ful  days,  for  he  had  worn  out  several  pairs  of  legs 
in  Nehemiah's  fields,  and  was  often  spoken  of  as 
being  upon  the  last  of  those  useful  extremities.  He 
stolidly  shook  his  head,  which  he  thought  so  much 
better  than  his  master's,  and  bedtime  found  them 
twenty  miles  away  and  at  home. 

Nehemiah  felt  scant  fatigue.  He  was  elated  with 
his  project.  He  scented  success  in  the  air.  It 
smelled  like  the  season.  It  too  was  suffused  with 
the  urgent  pungency  of  the  rising  sap,  with  the  fra- 


238      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 

grance  of  the  wild-cherry,  with  the  vinous  promise 
of  the  orchard,  with  the  richness  of  the  mould,  with 
the  vagrant  perfume  of  the  early  flowers. 

He  lighted  a  tallow  dip,  and  he  sat  him  down 
with  writing  materials  at  the  bare  table  to  indite  a 
letter  while  all  his  household  slept.  The  windows 
stood  open  to  the  dark  night,  and  Spring  hovered 
about  outside,  and  lounged  with  her  elbows  on  the 
sill,  and  looked  in.  He  constantly  saw  something 
pale  and  elusive  against  the  blackness,  for  there 
was  no  moon,  but  he  thought  it  only  the  timid  ir 
radiation  with  which  his  tallow  dip  suffused  the 
blossoming  wands  of  an  azalea,  growing  lithe  and 
tall  hard  by.  With  this  witness  only  he  wrote  the 
letter — an  anonymous  letter,  and  therefore  he  was 
indifferent  to  the  inadequacies  of  his  penmanship 
and  his  spelling.  He  labored  heavily  in  its  compo 
sition,  now  and  then  perpetrating  portentous  blots. 
He  grew  warm,  although  the  fire  that  had  served 
to  cook  supper  had  long  languished  under  the  bank 
of  ashes.  The  tallow  dip  seemed  full  of  caloric,  and 
melted  rapidly  in  pendulous  drippings.  He  now 
and  again  mopped  his  red  face,  usually  so  blood 
less,  with  his  big  bandanna  handkerchief,  while 
all  the  zephyrs  were  fanning  the  flying  tresses  of 
Spring  at  the  window,  and  the  soft,  sweet,  delicate 
ly  attuned  vernal  chorus  of  the  marshes  were  ten 
tatively  running  over  sotto  voce  their  allotted  melo 
dies  for  the  season.  Oh,  it  was  a  fine  night  outside, 
and  why  should  a  moth,  soft-winged  and  cream- 
tinted  and  silken-textured,  come  whisking  in  from 
the  dark,  as  silently  as  a  spirit,  to  supervise  Nehe- 
miah  Yerby's  letter,  and  travel  up  and  down  the 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      239 

page  all  befouled  with  the  ink  ?  And  as  he  sought 
to  save  the  sense  of  those  significant  sentences  from 
its  trailing  silken  draperies,  why  should  it  rise  sud 
denly,  circling  again  and  again  about  the  candle, 
pass  through  the  flame,  and  fall  in  quivering  agonies 
once  more  upon  the  page?  He  looked  at  it,  dead 
now,  with  satisfaction.  It  had  come  so  very  near 
ruining  his  letter — an  important  letter,  describing 
the  lair  of  the  illicit  distillers  to  a  deputy  marshal 
of  the  revenue  force,  who  was  known  to  be  in  a 
neighboring  town.  He  had  good  reason  to  with 
hold  his  signature,  for  the  name  of  the  informer  in 
the  ruthless  vengeance  of  the  region  would  be  as 
much  as  his  life  was  worth.  The  moth  had  not 
spoiled  the  letter — the  laborious  letter ;  he  was  so 
glad  of  that !  He  saw  no  analogies,  he  received 
not  even  a  subtle  warning,  as  he  sealed  and  ad 
dressed  the  envelope  and  affixed  the  postage-stamp. 
Then  he  snuffed  out  the  candle  with  great  satis 
faction. 

The  next  morning  the  missive  was  posted,  and 
all  Nehemiah  Yerby's  plans  took  a  new  lease  of 
life.  The  information  he  had  given  would  result 
in  an  immediate  raid  upon  the  place.  Leander 
would  be  captured  among  the  moonshiners,  but  his 
youth  and  his  uncle's  representations — for  he  would 
give  the  officers  an  inkling  of  the  true  state  of  the 
case — would  doubtless  insure  the  boy's  release, 
and  his  restoration  to  those  attractive  commercial 
prospects  which  had  been  devised  for  him. 


II 

The  ordering  of  events  is  an  intricate  process, 
and  to  its  successful  exploitation  a  certain  degree 
of  sagacious  prescience  is  a  prerequisite,  as  well  as 
a  thorough  mastery  of  the  lessons  of  experience. 
For  a  day  or  so  all  went  well  in  the  inner  con 
sciousness  of  Nehemiah  Yerby.  The  letter  had 
satisfied  his  restless  craving  for  some  action  tow 
ard  the  consummation  of  his  ambition,  and  he  had 
not  the  foresight  to  realize  how  soon  the  necessity 
of  following  it  up  would  supervene.  He  first  grew 
uneasy  lest  his  letter  had  not  reached  its  destina 
tion  ;  then,  when  the  illimitable  field  of  speculation 
was  thus  opened  out,  he  developed  an  ingenuity  of 
imagination  in  projecting  possible  disaster.  Day 
after  day  passed,  and  he  heard  naught  of  his  cher 
ished  scheme.  The  revenuers  —  craven  wretches 
he  deemed  them,  and  he  ground  his  teeth  with  rage 
because  of  their  seeming  cowardice  in  their  duty, 
since  their  duty  could  serve  his  interests — might 
not  have  felt  exactly  disposed  to  risk  their  lives  in 
these  sweet  spring  days,  when  perhaps  even  a  man 
whose  life  belongs  to  the  government  might  be 
presumed  to  take  some  pleasure  in  it,  by  attempt 
ing  to  raid  the  den  of  a  gang  of  moonshiners  on 
the  scanty  faith  of  an  informer's  word,  tenuous 
guaranty  at  best,  and  now  couched  in  an  anony- 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      241 

mous  letter,  itself  synonym  for  a  lie.  Oh,  what  fine 
eulogies  rose  in  his  mind  upon  the  manly  virtue  of 
courage  !  How  enthusing  it  is  at  all  times  to  con 
template  the  courage  of  others  ! — and  how  safe  ! 

Then  a  revulsion  of  belief  ensued,  and  he  began 
to  fear  that  they  might  already  have  descended 
upon  their  quarry,  and  with  all  their  captives  have 
returned  to  the  county  town  by  the  road  by  which 
they  came — nearer  than  the  route  through  the  cross 
roads,  though  far  more  rugged.  Why  had  not  this 
possibility  before  occurred  to  him !  He  had  so 
often  prefigured  their  triumphant  advent  into  the 
hamlet  with  all  their  guarded  and  shackled  prison 
ers,  the  callow  Leander  in  the  midst,  and  his  own 
gracefully  enacted  role  of  virtuous,  grief-stricken, 
pleading  relative,  that  it  seemed  a  recollection — 
something  that  had  really  happened — rather  than 
the  figment  of  anticipation.  But  no  word,  no  breath 
of  intimation,  had  ruffled  the  serenity  of  the  cross 
roads.  The  calm,  still,  yellow  sunshine  day  by  day 
suffused  the  land  like  the  benignities  of  a  dream 
— almost  too  good  to  be  true.  Every  man  with  the 
heart  of  a  farmer  within  him  was  at  the  plough- 
handles,  and  making  the  most  of  the  fair  weather. 
The  cloudless  sky  and  the  auspicious  forecast  of 
fine  days  still  to  come  did  more  to  prove  to  the 
farmer  the  existence  of  an  all- wise,  overruling  Provi 
dence  than  all  the  polemics  of  the  world  might  ac 
complish.  The  furrows  multiplied  everywhere  save 
in  Nehemiah's  own  fields,  where  he  often  stood  so 
long  in  the  turn-row  that  the  old  horse  would  desist 
from  twisting  his  head  backward  in  surprise,  and 
start  at  last  of  his  own  motion,  dragging  the  plough, 

16 


242       THE   MOONSHINERS   AT    HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

the  share  still  unanchored  in  the  ground,  half  across 
the  field  before  he  could  be  stopped.  The  vagaries 
of  these  "  lands  "  that  the  absent-minded  Nehemiah 
laid  off  attracted  some  attention. 

"  What  ails  yer  furrows  ter  run  so  crooked,  Nehe 
miah  ?"  observed  a  passer-by,  a  neighbor  who  had 
been  to  the  blacksmith-shop  to  get  his  plough-point 
sharpened;  he  looked  over  the  fence  critically. 
"  Yer  eyesight  mus'  be  failin'  some." 

"  I  dun'no',"  rejoined  Nehemiah,  hastily.  Then 
reverting  to  his  own  absorption.  "  War  it  you-uns 
ez  I  hearn  say  thar  war  word  kem  ter  the  cross 
roads  'bout  some  revenuers  raidin'  'round  some- 
\vhar  in  the  woods  ?" 

The  look  of  surprise  cast  upon  him  seemed  to 
his  alert  anxiety  to  betoken  suspicion.  "  Laws-a- 
massy,  naw  !"  exclaimed  his  interlocutor.  "  Ye  air 
the  fust  one  that  hev  named  sech  ez  that  in  these 
diggings,  fur  I'd  hev  hearn  tell  on  it,  sure,  ef  thar 
hed  been  enny  sech  word  goin'  the  rounds." 

Nehemiah  recoiled  into  silence,  and  presently 
his  neighbor  went  whistling  on  his  way.  He  stood 
motionless  for  a  time,  until  the  man  was  well  out  of 
sight,  then  he  began  to  hastily  unhitch  the  plough- 
gear.  His  resolution  was  taken.  He  could  wait  no 
longer.  For  aught  he  knew  the  raiders  might  have 
come  and  gone,  and  be  now  a  hundred  miles  away 
with  their  prisoners  to  stand  their  trial  in  the  Fed 
eral  court.  His  schemes  might  have  all  gone  amiss, 
leaving  him  in  naught  the  gainer.  He  could  rest 
in  uncertainty  no  more.  He  feared  to  venture 
further  questions  when  no  rumor  stirred  the  air. 
They  rendered  him  doubly  liable  to  suspicion — to 


THE   MOONSHINERS    AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS       243 

the  law-abiding  as  a  possible  moonshiner,  to  any 
sympathizer  with  the  distillers  as  a  probable  in 
former.  He  determined  to  visit  the  spot,  and  there 
judge  how  the  enterprise  had  fared. 

When  next  he  heard  that  fine  sylvan  symphony 
of  the  sound  of  the  falling  water — the  tinkling  bell- 
like  tremors  of  its  lighter  tones  mingling  with  the 
sonorous,  continuous,  deeper  theme  rising  from  its 
weight  and  volume  and  movement ;  with  the  surg 
ing  of  the  wind  in  the  pines  ;  with  the  occasional 
cry  of  a  wild  bird  deep  in  the  new  verdure  of  the 
forests  striking  through  the  whole  with  a  brilliant, 
incidental,  detached  effect — no  faint  vibration  was 
in  its  midst  of  the  violin's  string,  listen  as  he  might. 
More  than  once  he  sought  to  assure  himself  that 
he  heard  it,  but  his  fancy  failed  to  respond  to  his 
bidding,  although  again  and  again  he  took  up  his 
position  where  it  had  before  struck  his  ear.  The 
wild  minstrelsy  of  the  woods  felt  no  lack,  and 
stream  and  wind  and  harping  pine  and  vagrant 
bird  lifted  their  voices  in  their  wonted  strains.  He 
could  hardly  accept  the  fact ;  he  would  verify  anew 
the  landmarks  he  had  made  and  again  return  to 
the  spot,  his  hat  in  his  hand,  his  head  bent  low, 
his  face  lined  with  anxiety  and  suspense.  No 
sound,  no  word,  no  intimation  of  human  presence. 
The  moonshiners  were  doubtless  all  gone  long  ago, 
betrayed  into  captivity,  and  Leander  with  them. 
He  had  so  hardened  his  heart  toward  his  recalci 
trant  young  kinsman  and  his  Sudley  friends,  he 
felt  so  entirely  that  in  being  among  the  moonshin 
ers  Leander  had  met  only  his  deserts  in  coming 
to  the  bar  of  Federal  justice,  that  he  would  have 


244     THE   MOONSHINERS   AT    HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

experienced  scant  sorrow  if  the  nephew  had  not 
carried  off  with  his  own  personality  his  uncle's 
book-keeper  and  postmaster's  clerk.  And  so — alas, 
for  Leander !  As  he  meditated  on  the  untoward 
manner  in  which  he  had  overshot  his  target,  this 
marksman  of  fate  forgot  the  caution  which  had 
distinguished  his  approach,  for  hitherto  it  had  been 
as  heedful  as  if  he  fully  believed  the  lion  still  in 
his  den.  He  slowly  patrolled  the  bank  below  the 
broad,  thin,  crystal  sheet,  seeing  naught  but  its  rain 
bow  hovering  elusively  in  the  sun,  and  its  green  and 
white  skein-like  draperies  pendulous  before  the  great 
dark  arch  over  which  the  cataract  fell.  The  log 
caught  among  the  rocks  in  the  spray  at  the  base 
was  still  there,  seeming  always  to  rise  while  the 
restless  water  seemed  motionless. 

No  trace  that  human  beings  had  ever  invaded 
these  solitudes  could  he  discover.  No  vague,  faint 
suggestion  of  the  well -hidden  lair  of  the  moon 
shiners  did  the  wild  covert  show  forth.  "  The 
revenuers  war  smarter'n  me  ;  I'll  say  that  fur  'em," 
he  muttered  at  last  as  he  came  to  a  stand-still,  his 
chin  in  his  hand,  his  perplexed  eyes  on  the  ground. 
And  suddenly — a  footprint  on  a  marshy  spot ;  only 
the  heel  of  a  boot,  for  the  craggy  ledges  hid  all  the 
ground  but  this,  a  mere  sediment  of  sand  in  a  tiny 
hollow  in  the  rock  from  which  the  water  had  evap 
orated.  It  was  a  key  to  the  mystery.  Instantly 
the  rugged  edges  of  the  cliff  took  on  the  similitude 
of  a  path.  Once  furnished  with  this  idea,  he  could 
perceive  adequate  footing  all  adown  the  precipitous 
way.  He  was  not  young ;  his  habits  had  been  in 
active,  and  were  older  even  than  his  age.  He  could 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS      245 

not  account  for  it  afterward,  but  he  followed  for  a 
few  paces  this  suggestion  of  a  path  down  the  pre 
cipitous  sides  of  the  stream.  He  had  a  sort  of 
triumph  in  finding  it  so  practicable,  and  he  essayed 
it  still  farther,  although  the  sound  of  the  water 
had  grown  tumultuous  at  closer  approach,  and 
seemed  to  foster  a  sort  of  responsive  turmoil  of 
the  senses ;  he  felt  his  head  whirl  as  he  looked 
at  the  bounding,  frothing  spray,  then  at  the  long 
swirls  of  the  current  at  the  base  of  the  fall  as  they 
swept  on  their  way  down  the  gorge.  As  he  sought 
to  lift  his  fascinated  eyes,  the  smooth  glitter  of  the 
crystal  sheet  of  falling  water  so  close  before  him 
dazzled  his  sight.  He  wondered  afterward  how  his 
confused  senses  and  trembling  limbs  sustained  him 
along  the  narrow,  rugged  path,  here  and  there  cov 
ered  with  oozing  green  moss,  and  slippery  with  the 
continual  moisture.  It  evidently  was  wending  to 
a  ledge.  All  at  once  the  contour  of  the  place  was 
plain  to  him  ;  the  ledge  led  behind  the  cataract 
that  fell  from  the  beetling  heights  above.  And 
within  were  doubtless  further  recesses,  where  per 
chance  the  moonshiners  had  worked  their  still.  As 
he  reached  the  ledge  he  could  see  behind  the  fall 
ing  water  and  into  the  great  concave  space  which 
it  screened  beneath  the  beetling  cliff.  It  was  as  he 
had  expected — an  arched  portal  of  jagged  brown 
rocks,  all  dripping  with  moisture  and  oozing  moss, 
behind  the  semi-translucent  green-and-white  dra 
pery  of  the  cascade. 

But  he  had  not  expected  to  see,  standing  quietly 
in  the  great  vaulted  entrance,  a  man  with  his  left 
hand  on  a  pistol  in  his  belt,  the  mate  of  which  his 


246      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

more  formidable  right  hand  held  up  with  a  steady 
finger  on  the  trigger. 

This  much  Nehemiah  beheld,  and  naught  else, 
for  the  glittering  profile  of  the  falls,  visible  now 
only  aslant,  the  dark,  cool  recess  beyond,  that 
!  menacing  motionless  figure  at  the  vanishing-point 
of  the  perspective,  all  blended  together  in  an  in 
distinguishable  whirl  as  his  senses  reeled.  He 
barely  retained  consciousness  enough  to  throw  up 
both  his  hands  in  token  of  complete  submission. 
And  then  for  a  moment  he  knew  no  more.  He 
was  still  leaning  motionless  against  the  wall  of 
rock  when  he  became  aware  that  the  man  was 
sternly  beckoning  to  him  to  continue  his  approach. 
His  dumb  lips  moved  mechanically  in  response, 
but  any  sound  must  needs  have  been  futile  indeed 
in  the  pervasive  roar  of  the  waters.  He  felt  that 
he  had  hardly  strength  for  another  step  along  the 
precipitous  way,  but  there  is  much  tonic  influence 
in  a  beckoning  revolver,  and  few  men  are  so  weak 
as  to  be  unable  to  obey  its  behests.  Poor  Nehe 
miah  tottered  along  as  behooved  him,  leaving  all 
the  world,  liberty,  volition,  behind  him  as  the  de 
scending  sheet  of  water  fell  between  him  and  the 
rest  of  life  and  shut  him  off. 

"That's  it,  my  leetle  man  !  I  thought  you  could 
make  it !"  were  the  first  words  he  could  distinguish 
as  he  joined  the  mountaineer  beneath  the  crag. 

Nehemiah  Yerby  had  never  before  seen  this  man. 
That  in  itself  was  alarming,  since  in  the  scanty  popu 
lation  of  the  region  few  of  its  denizens  are  unknown 
to  each  other,  at  least  by  sight.  The  tone  of  satire, 
the  gleam  of  enjoyment  in  his  keen  blue  eye,  were 


THE  MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS      247 

not  reassuring  to  the  object  of  his  ridicule.  He  was 
tall  and  somewhat  portly,  and  he  had  a  bluff  and  off 
hand  manner,  which,  however,  served  not  so  much 
to  intimate  his  good-will  toward  you  as  his  abound 
ing  good-humor  with  himself.  He  was  a  man  of  most 
arbitrary  temper,  one  could  readily  judge,  not  only 
from  his  own  aspect  and  manner,  but  from  the  doc 
ile,  reliant,  approving  cast  of  countenance  of  his 
reserve  force  — a  half-dozen  men,  who  were  some 
what  in  the  background,  lounging  on  the  rocks  about 
a  huge  copper  still.  They  wore  an  attentive  aspect, 
but  offered  to  take  no  active  part  in  the  scene 
enacted  before  them.  One  of  them — even  at  this 
crucial  moment  Yerby  noticed  it  with  a  pang  of 
regretful  despair  —  held  noiseless  on  his  knee  a 
violin,  and  more  than  once  addressed  himself  seri 
ously  to  rubbing  rosin  over  the  bow.  There  was 
scant  music  in  his  face — a  square  physiognomy, 
with  thick  features,  and  a  shock  of  hay-colored  hair 
striped  somewhat  with  an  effect  of  darker  shades 
like  a  weathering  stack.  He  handled  the  bow  with 
a  blunt,  clumsy  hand  that  augured  little  of  delicate 
skill,  and  he  seemed  from  his  diligence  to  think  that 
rosin  is  what  makes  a  fiddle  play.  He  was  evidently 
one  of  those  unhappy  creatures  furnished  with  some 
vague  inner  attraction  to  the  charms  of  music,  with 
no  gift,  no  sentiment,  no  discrimination.  Something 
faintly  sonorous  there  was  in  his  soul,  and  it  vibrated 
to  the  twanging  of  the  strings.  He  was  far  less  alert 
to  the  conversation  than  the  others,  whose  listening 
attitudes  attested  their  appreciation  of  the  impor 
tance  of  the  moment. 

"  Waal,"  observed  the  moonshiner,  impatiently, 


248      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

eying  the  tremulous  and  tongue-tied  Yerby,  "  hev  ye 
fund  what  ye  war  a-huntin'fur  ?" 

So  tenacious  of  impressions  was  Nehemiah  that 
it  was  the  violin  in  those  alien  hands  which  still 
focussed  his  attention  as  he  stared  gaspingly  about. 
Leander  was  not  here ;  probably  had  never  been 
here ;  and  the  twanging  of  those  strings  had  lured 
him  to  his  fate.  Well  might  he  contemn  the  festive 
malevolence  of  the  violin's  influence  !  His  letter 
had  failed ;  no  raider  had  intimidated  these  bluff, 
unafraid,  burly  law-breakers,  and  he  had  put  his 
life  in  jeopardy  in  his  persistent  prosecution  of  his 
scheme.  He  gasped  again  at  the  thought. 

"  Waal"  said  the  moonshiner,  evidently  a  man  of 
short  patience,  and  with  a  definite  air  of  spurring  on 
the  visitor's  account  of  himself,  "  we  'ain't  been 
lookin'  fur  any  spy  lately,  but  I'm  'lowin'  ez  we  hev 
fund  him." 

His  fear  thus  put  into  words  so  served  to  realize 
to  Yerby  his  immediate  danger  that  it  stood  him  in 
the  stead  of  courage,  of  brains,  of  invention  ;  his 
flaccid  muscles  were  suddenly  again  under  control ; 
he  wreathed  his  features  with  his  smug  artificial 
smile,  that  was  like  a  grimace  in  its  best  estate,  and 
now  hardly  seemed  more  than  a  contortion.  But 
beauty  in  any  sense  was  not  what  the  observer  was 
prepared  to  expect  in  Nehemiah,  and  the  moon 
shiner  seemed  to  accept  the  smile  at  its  face  value, 
and  to  respect  its  intention. 

"  Spies  don't  kem  climbin'  down  that  thar  path  o' 
yourn  in  full  view  through  the  water  "  -  for  the 
landscape  was  as  visible  through  the  thin  falling 
sheet  as  if  it  had  been  the  slightly  corrugated  glass 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS      249 

of  a  window — "  do  they  ?"  Yerby  asked,  with  a  jocose 
intonation.  "  That  thar  shootin'-iron  o'  yourn  liked 
ter  hev  skeered  me  ter  death  whenst  I  fust  seen  it." 

His  interlocutor  pondered  on  this  answer  for  a 
moment.  He  had  an  adviser  among  his  corps 
whose  opinion  he  evidently  valued  ;  he  exchanged  a 
quick  glance  with  one  of  the  men  who  was  but  dimly 
visible  in  the  shadows  beyond  the  still,  where  there 
seemed  to  be  a  series  of  troughs  leading  a  rill  of 
running  water  down  from  some  farther  spring  and 
through  the  tub  in  which  the  spiral  worm  was  coiled. 
This  man  had  a  keen,  white,  lean  face,  with  an 
ascetic,  abstemious  expression,  and  he  looked  less 
like  a  distiller  than  some  sort  of  divine — some  rustic 
pietist,  with  strange  theories  and  unhappy  specula 
tions  and  unsettled  mind.  It  was  a  face  of  subtle  in 
fluences,  and  the  very  sight  of  it  roused  in  Nehemiah 
a  more  heedful  fear  than  the  "  shootin'-iron  "  in  the 
bluff  moonshiner's  hand  had  induced.  He  was  si 
lent,  while  the  other  resumed  the  office  of  spokesman. 

"  Ye  ain't  'quainted  hyar  " — he  waved  his  hand 
with  the  pistol  in  it  around  at  the  circle  of  uncower- 
ing  men,  although  the  mere  movement  made  Nehe 
miah  cringe  with  the  thought  that  an  accidental 
discharge  might  as  effectually  settle  his  case  as 
premeditated  and  deliberate  murder.  "  Ye  dun'no' 
none  o'  us.  What  air  ye  a-doin'  hyar  ?" 

"Why,  that  thar  war  the  very  trouble,"  Yerby 
hastily  explained.  "  /  didn't  know  none  o'  ye  !  I  hed 
hearn  ez  thar  war  a  still  somewhars  on  Hide-an'-Seek 
Creek  " — once  more  there  ensued  a  swift  exchange 
of  glances  among  the  party — "  but  nobody  knew 
who  run  it  nor  whar  'twar.  An'  one  day,  consider'ble 


2$0     THE    MOONSHINERS   AT    HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

time  ago,  I  war  a-passin'  nigh  'bouts  an'  I  hearn  that 
fiddle,  an'  that  revealed  the  spot  ter  me.  An'  I  kem 
ter-day  'lo\vin'  ye  an'  me  could  strike  a  trade." 

Once  more  the  bluff  man  of  force  turned  an  anx 
ious  look  of  inquiry  to  the  pale,  thoughtful  face  in 
the  brown  and  dark  green  shadows  beyond  the  cop 
per  gleam  of  the  still.  If  policy  had  required  that 
Nehemiah  should  be  despatched,  his  was  the  hand 
to  do  the  deed,  and  his  the  stomach  to  support 
his  conscience  afterward.  But  his  brain  revolted 
from  the  discriminating  analysis  of  Nehemiah's  dis 
course  and  a  decision  on  its  merits. 

"  Trade  fur  what  ?"  he  demanded  at  last,  on  his 
own  responsibility,  for  no  aid  had  radiated  from 
the  face  which  his  looks  had  interrogated. 

"  Fur  whiskey,  o'  course."  Nehemiah  made  the 
final  plunge  boldly.  "  I  be  goin'  ter  open  a  store 
at  the  cross-roads,  an'  I  'lowed  I  could  git  cheaper 
whiskey  untaxed  than  taxed.  I  'lowed  ye  wouldn't 
make  it  ef  ye  didn't  expec'  ter  sell  it.  I  didn't 
know  none  o'  you-uns,  an'  none  o'  yer  customers. 
An'  ez  I  expec'  ter  git  mo'  profit  on  sellin'  whiskey 
'n  ennything  else  in  the  store,  I  jes  took  foot  in 
hand  an'  kem  ter  see  'boutn  it  mysef.  I  never 
'lowed,  though,  ez  it  mought  look  cur'ous  ter  you- 
uns,  or  like  a  spy,  ter  kem  ez  bold  ez  brass  down 
the  path  in  full  sight." 

The  logic  of  the  seeming  security  of  his  ap 
proach,  and  the  apparent  value  of  his  scheme,  had 
their  full  weight.  He  saw  credulity  gradually  over 
powering  doubt  and  distrust,  and  his  heart  grew 
light  with  relief.  Even  their  cautious  demur,  inti 
mating  a  reserve  of  opinion  to  the  effect  that  they 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      2$I 

would  think  about  it,  did  not  daunt  him  now.  He 
believed,  in  the  simplicity  of  his  faith  in  his  own 
craft,  now  once  more  in  the  ascendant,  that  if  they 
should  accept  his  proposition  he  would  be  free  to 
go  without  further  complication  of  his  relations 
with  wild-cat  whiskey.  He  -could  not  sufficiently 
applaud  his  wits  for  the  happy  termination  of  the 
adventure  to  which  they  had  led  him.  He  had 
gone  no  further  in  the  matter  than  he  had  always 
intended.  Brush  whiskey  was  the  commodity  that 
addressed  itself  most  to  his  sense  of  speculation. 
For  this  he  had  always  expected  to  ferret  out  some 
way  of  safely  negotiating.  He  had  gone  no  fur 
ther  than  he  should  have  done,  at  all  events,  a  lit 
tle  later.  He  even  began  mentally  to  "  rigger  on 
the  price "  down  to  which  he  should  be  able  to 
bring  the  distillers,  as  he  accepted  a  proffered  seat 
in  the  circle  about  the  still.  He  could  neither  di 
vide  nor  multiply  by  -fractions,  and  it  is  not  too 
much  to  say  that  he  might  have  been  throttled  on 
the  spot  if  the  moonshiners  could  have  had  a  men 
tal  vision  of  the  liberties  the  stalwart  integers  were 
taking  with  their  price-current,  so  to  speak,  and  the 
preternatural  discount  that  was  making  so  free  with 
their  profits.  So  absorbed  in  this  pleasing  intel 
lectual  exercise  was  Nehemiah  that  he  did  not  ob 
serve  that  any  one  had  left  the  coterie  ;  but  when 
a  stir  without  on  the  rocks  intimated  an  approach 
he  was  suddenly  ill  at  ease,  and  this  discomfort 
increased  when  the  new-comer  proved  to  be  a  man 
who  knew  him. 

"  Waal,  Nehemiah  Yerby !"  he  exclaimed,  shak 
ing  his  friend's   hand,  "  I   never  knowed  you-uns 


252      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 

ter  be  consarned  in  sech  ez  moonshinin'.  I  hev 
been  a-neighborin'  Isham  hyar,"  he  laid  his  heavy 
hand  on  the  tall  moonshiner's  shoulder,  "  fur  ten 
year  an'  better,  but  I  won't  hev  nuthin'  ter  do  with 
bresh  whiskey  or  aidin'  or  abettir/  in  illicit  'stillin'. 
I  like  Isham,  an'  Isham  he  likes  me,  an'  we  hev  jes 
agreed  ter  disagree." 

Nehemiah  dared  not  protest  nor  seek  to  explain. 
He  could  invent  no  story  that  \vould  not  give  the 
lie  direct  to  his  representations  to  the  moonshin 
ers.  He  felt  that  their  eyes  were  upon  him.  He 
could  only  hope  that  his  silence  did  not  seem  to 
them  like  denial — and  yet  was  not  tantamount  to 
confession  in  the  esteem  of  his  upbraider. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  his  interlocutor  continued,  "  it's  a 
mighty  bad  government  ter  run  agin."  Then  he 
turned  to  the  moonshiner,  evidently  taking  up  the 
business  that  had  brought  him  here.  "  Lemme 
see  what  sorter  brand  ye  hev  registered  fur  yer  cat 
tle,  Isham." 

Yerby's  heart  sank  when  the  suspicion  perco 
lated  through  his  brain  that  this  man  had  been  in 
duced  to  come  here  for  the  purpose  of  recognizing 
him.  More  fixed  in  this  opinion  was  he  when  no 
description  of  the  brand  of  the  cattle  could  be 
found,  and  the  visitor  finally  went  away,  his  errand 
bootless. 

From  time  to  time  during  the  afternoon  other 
men  went  out  and  returned  with  recruits  on  various 
pretexts,  all  of  which  Nehemiah  believed  masked 
the  marshalling  of  witnesses  to  incriminate  him  as 
one  of  themselves,  in  order  to  better  secure  his 
constancy  to  the  common  interests,  and  in  case  he 


THE  MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      253 

was  playing  false  to  put  others  into  possession  of 
the  facts  as  to  the  identity  of  the  informer.  His 
liability  to  the  law  for  aiding  and  abetting  in 
moonshining  was  very  complete  before  the  day 
darkened,  and  his  jeopardy  as  to  the  information 
he  had  given  made  him  shake  in  his  shoes. 

For  at  any  moment,  he  reflected,  in  despair,  the 
laggard  raiders  might  swoop  down  upon  them,  and 
the  choice  of  roles  offered  to  him  was  to  seem  to 
them  a  moonshiner,  or  to  the  moonshiners  an  in 
former.  The  first  was  far  the  safer,  for  the  clutches 
of  the  law  were  indeed  feeble  as  contrasted  with 
the  popular  fury  that  would  pursue  him  unwearied 
for  years  until  its  vengeance  was  accomplished. 
From  the  one,  escape  was  to  the  last  degree  im 
probable  ;  from  the  other,  impossible. 

Any  pretext  to  seek  to  quit  the  place  before  the 
definite  arrangements  of  his  negotiation  were  con 
summated  seemed  even  to  him,  despite  his  eager 
ness  to  be  off,  too  tenuous,  too  transparent,  to  be 
essayed,  although  he  devised  several  as  he  sat  med 
itative  and  silent  amongst  the  group  about  the  still. 
The  prospect  grew  less  and  less  inviting  as  the  lin 
gering  day  waned,  and  the  evening  shadows,  dank 
and  chill,  perceptibly  approached.  The  brown  and 
green  recesses  of  the  grotto  were  at  once  murkier, 
and  yet  more  distinctly  visible,  for  the  glow  of  the 
fire,  flickering  through  the  crevices  of  the  metal 
door  of  the  furnace,  had  begun  to  assert  its  lumi 
nous  quality,  which  was  hardly  perceptible  in  the  full 
light  of  day,  and  brought  out  the  depth  of  the  shad 
ows.  The  figures  and  faces  of  the  moonshiners 
showed  against  the  deepening  gloom.  The  sunset 


254      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEEEE    FALLS 

clouds  were  still  red  without ;  a  vague  roseate  suffu 
sion  was  visible  through  the  falling  water.  The  sun 
itself  had  not  yet  sunk,  for  an  oblique  and  almost 
level  ray,  piercing  the  cataract,  painted  a  series  of 
faint  prismatic  tints  on  one  side  of  the  rugged  arch. 
But  while  the  outer  world  was  still  in  touch  with 
the  clear-eyed  day,  night  was  presently  here,  with 
mystery  and  doubt  and  dark  presage.  The  voice 
of  Hoho-hebee  Falls  seemed  to  him  louder,  full  of 
strange,  uncomprehended  meanings,  and  insistent 
iteration.  Vague  echoes  were  elicited.  Sometimes 
in  a  seeming  pause  he  could  catch  their  lisping 
sibilant  tones  repeating,  repeating — what  ?  As  the 
darkness  encroached  yet  more  heavily  upon  the 
cataract,  the  sense  of  its  unseen  motion  so  close  at 
hand  oppressed  his  very  soul ;  it  gave  an  idea  of 
the  swift  gathering  of  shifting  invisible  multitudes, 
coming  and  going  —  who  could  say  whence  or 
whither  ?  So  did  this  impression  master  his  nerves 
that  he  was  glad  indeed  when  the  furnace  door  was 
opened  for  fuel,  and  he  could  see  only  the  inani 
mate,  ever-descending  sheet  of  water — the  reverse 
interior  aspect  of  Hoho-hebee  Falls — all  suffused 
with  the  uncanny  tawny  light,  but  showing  white 
and  green  tints  like  its  diurnal  outer  aspect,  instead 
of  the  colorless  outlines,  resembling  a  drawing  of  a 
cataract,  which  the  cave  knew  by  day.  He  did 
not  pause  to  wonder  whether  the  sudden  transient 
illumination  was  visible  without,  or  how  it  might 
mystify  the  untutored  denizens  of  the  woods,  bear, 
or  deer,  or  wolf,  perceiving  it  aglow  in  the  midst  of 
the  waters  like  a  great  topaz,  and  anon  lost  in  the 
gloom.  He  pined  to  see  it ;  the  momentary  cessa- 


THE   MOONSHINERS    AT    HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS      255 

tion  of  darkness,  of  the  effect  of  the  sounds,  so 
strange  in  the  obscurity,  and  of  the  chill,  pervasive 
mystery  of  the  invisible,  was  so  grateful  that  its  in 
fluence  was  tonic  to  his  nerves,  and  he  came  to 
watch  for  its  occasion  and  to  welcome  it.  He  did 
not  grudge  it  even  when  it  gave  the  opportunity 
for  a  close,  unfriendly,  calculating  scrutiny  of  his 
face  by  the  latest  comer  to  the  still.  This  was  the 
neighboring  miller,  also  liable  to  the  revenue  laws, 
the  distillers  being  valued  patrons  of  the  mill,  and 
since  he  ground  the  corn  for  the  mash  he  thereby 
aided  and  abetted  in  the  illicit  manufacture  of  the 
whiskey.  His  life  was  more  out  in  the  world  than 
that  of  his  underground  confreres,  and  perhaps,  as 
he  had  a  thriving  legitimate  business,  and  did  not 
live  by  brush  whiskey,  he  had  more  to  lose  by  de 
tection  than  they,  and  deprecated  even  more  any 
unnecessary  risk.  He  evidently  took  great  um 
brage  at  the  introduction  of  Nehemiah  amongst 
them. 

"  Oh  yes,"  he  observed,  in  response  to  the  cordial 
greeting  which  he  met ;  "  an'  I'm  glad  ter  see  ye  all 
too.  I'm  powerful  glad  ter  kem  ter  the  still  enny 
time.  It's  ekal  ter  goin'  ter  the  settlemint,  or  plumb 
ter  town  on  a  County  Court  day.  Ye  see  every 
body,  an'  hear  all  the  news,  an'  meet  up  with  inter- 
estit?  strangers.  I  tell  ye,  now,  the  mill's  plumb 
lonesome  compared  ter  the  still,  an'  the  mill's  al 
ways  bed  the  name  of  a  place  vvhar  a  heap  o' 
cronies  gathered  ter  swap  lies,  an'  sech." 

The  irony  of  this  description  of  the  social  delights 
and  hospitable  accessibilities  of  a  place  esteemed 
the  very  stronghold  of  secrecy  itself — the  liberty  of 


256      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 

every  man  in  it  jeopardized  by  the  slightest  lapse 
of  vigilance  or  judgment — was  very  readily  to  be 
appreciated  by  the  group,  who  were  invited  by  this 
fair  show  of  words  to  look  down  the  vista  of  the 
future  to  possible  years  of  captivity  in  the  jails  of 
far-away  States  as  Federal  prisoners.  The  men 
gazed  heavily  and  anxiously  from  one  to  another 
as  the  visitor  sank  down  on  the  rocks  in  a  relaxed 
attitude,  his  elbow  on  a  higher  ledge  behind  him, 
supporting  his  head  on  his  hand ;  his  other  hand 
was  on  his  hip,  his  arm  stiffly  akimbo,  while  he 
looked  with  an  expression  of  lowering  exasperation 
at  Yerby.  It  was  impossible  to  distinguish  the  col 
or  of  his  garb,  so  dusted  with  rlour  was  he  from 
head  to  foot ;  but  his  long  boots  drawn  over  his 
trousers  to  the  knee,  and  his  great  spurs,  and  a 
brace  of  pistols  in  his  belt,  seemed  incongruous  ac 
cessories  to  the  habiliments  of  a  miller.  His  large, 
dark  hat  was  thrust  far  back  on  his  head ;  his  hair, 
rising  straight  in  a  sort  of  elastic  wave  from  his 
brow,  was  powdered  white  ;  the  effect  of  his  florid 
color  and  his  dark  eyes  was  accented  by  the  con 
trast  ;  his  pointed  beard  revealed  its  natural  tints 
because  of  his  habit  of  frequently  brushing  his  hand 
over  it,  and  was  distinctly  red.  He  was  lithe  and 
lean  and  nervous,  and  had  the  impatient  temper 
characteristic  of  mercurial  natures.  It  mattered  not 
to  him  what  was  the  coercion  of  the  circumstances 
which  had  led  to  the  reception  of  the  stranger  here, 
nor  what  was  the  will  of  the  majority ;  he  disap 
proved  of  the  step ;  he  feared  it ;  he  esteemed  it  a 
grievance  done  him  in  his  absence ;  and  he  could 
not  conceal  his  feelings  nor  wait  a  more  fitting  time 


THE    MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      257 

to  express  them  in  private.  His  irritation  and  ob 
jection  evidently  caused  some  solicitude  amongst 
the  others.  He  was  important  to  them,  and  they 
deprecated  his  displeasure.  Isham  Beaton  listened 
to  the  half-covert  sneers  of  his  words  with  pertur 
bation  plainly  depicted  on  his  face,  and  the  man 
whom  Nehemiah  had  at  first  noticed  as  one  whose 
character  seemed  that  of  adviser,  and  whose  opin 
ion  was  valued,  now  spoke  for  the  first  time.  He 
handed  over  a  broken-nosed  pitcher  with  the  re 
mark,  "  Try  the  flavor  of  this  hyar  whiskey,  Al 
fred;  'pears  like  ter  me  the  bes1  we-uns  hev  ever 
hed." 

His  voice  was  singularly  smooth ;  it  had  all  the 
qualities  of  culture ;  every  syllable,  every  lapse  of 
his  rude  dialect,  was  as  distinct  as  if  he  had  been 
taught  to  speak  in  this  way ;  his  tones  were  low 
and  even,  and  modulated  to  suave  cadences ;  the 
ear  experienced  a  sense  of  relief  after  the  loud, 
strident  voice  of  the  miller,  poignantly  penetrating 
and  pitched  high. 

"  Naw,  Hilary,  I  don't  want  nuthin'  ter  drink. 
'Bleeged  ter  ye,  but  I  ain't  wantin'  nuthin'  ter 
drink,"  reiterated  the  miller,  plaintively. 

Isham  Beaton  cast  a  glance  of  alarm  at  the 
dimly  seen,  monastic  face  of  his  adviser  in  the 
gloom.  It  was  unchanged.  Its  pallor  and  its 
kfeen  outline  enabled  its  expression  to  be  discerned 
as  he  himself  went  through  the  motions  of  sampling 
the  rejected  liquor,  shook  his  head  discerningly, 
wiped  his  mouth  on  the  back  of  his  hand,  and  de 
posited  the  pitcher  near  by  on  a  shelf  of  the  rock. 

A  pause  ensued.     Nehemiah,  with  every  desire 
17 


258      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 

to  be  agreeable,  hardly  knew  how  to  commend 
himself  to  the  irate  miller,  who  would  have  none 
of  his  very  existence.  No  one  could  more  eagerly 
desire  him  to  be  away  than  he  himself.  But  his 
absence  would  not  satisfy  the  miller ;  nothing  less 
than  that  the  intruder  should  never  have  been 
here.  Every  perceptible  lapse  of  the  moonshiners 
into  anxiety,  every  recurrent  intimation  of  their 
most  pertinent  reason  for  this  anxiety,  set  Nehemiah 
a-shaking  in  his  shoes.  Should  it  be  esteemed  the 
greatest  good  to  the  greatest  number  to  make  safe 
ly  away  with  him,  his  fate  would  forever  remain 
unknown,  so  cautious  had  he  been  to  leave  no 
trace  by  which  he  might  be  followed.  He  gazed 
with  deprecating  urbanity,  and  with  his  lips  dis 
tended  into  a  propitiating  smile,  at  the  troubled  face 
powdered  so  white  and  with  its  lowering  eyes  so 
dark  and  petulant.  He  noted  that  the  small-talk 
amongst  the  others,  mere  unindividualized  lump 
ish  fellows  with  scant  voice  in  the  government  of 
their  common  enterprise,  had  ceased,  and  that  they 
no  longer  busied  themselves  with  the  necessary 
work  about  the  still,  nor  with  the  snickering  inter 
ludes  and  horse-play  with  which  they  were  wont  to 
beguile  their  labors.  They  had  all  seated  them 
selves,  and  were  looking  from  one  to  the  other  of 
the  more  important  members  of  the  guild  with  an 
air  which  betokened  the  momentary  expectation  «f 
a  crisis.  The  only  exception  was  the  man  who  had 
the  violin  ;  with  the  persistent,  untimely  industry 
of  incapacity,  he  twanged  the  strings,  and  tuned 
and  retuned  the  instrument,  each  time  producing  a 
result  more  astonishingly  off  the  key  than  before. 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT    HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS      259 

He  was  evidently  unaware  of  this  till  some  one 
with  senses  ajar  would  suggest  that  all  was  not  as 
it  should  be  in  the  drunken  reeling  catch  he  sought 
to  play,  when  he  would  desist  in  surprise,  and  once 
more  diligently  rub  the  bow  with  rosin,  as  if  that 
mended  the  matter.  The  miller's  lowering  eyes  rest 
ed  on  his  shadowy  outline  as  he  sat  thus  engaged, 
for  a  moment,  and  then  he  broke  out  suddenly : 

"  Yes,  this  hyar  still  is  the  place  fur  news,  an' 
the  place  ter  look  out  fur  what  ye  don't  expec'  ter 
happen.  It's  powerful  pleasant  ter  be  a-meetin'  of 
folks  hyar — this  hyar  stranger  this  evenin'"— his 
gleaming  teeth  in  the  semi-obscurity  notified  Yerby 
that  a  smile  of  spurious  politeness  was  bent  upon 
him,  and  he  made  haste  to  grin  very  widely  in  re 
sponse — "  an'  that  thar  fiddle  'minds  me  o1  how 
onexpected  'twar  whenst  I  met  up  with  Lee-yander 
hyar — 'pears  ter  me,  Bob,  ez  ye  air  goin'  ter  diddle 
the  life  out'n  his  fiddle — an'  Hilary  jes  begged  an' 
beseeched  me  ter  take  the  boy  with  me  ter  help 
'round  the  mill,  ez  he  war  a-runnin'  away.  Ye 
want  me  ter  'commodate  this  stranger  too,  ez 
mebbe  air  runnin'  from  them  ez  wants  him,  hey 
Hilary  ?" 

The  grin  was  petrified  on  Nehemiah's  face.  He 
felt  his  blood  rush  quickly  to  his  head  in  the  ex 
citement  of  the  moment.  So  here  was  the  bird 
very  close  at  hand !  And  here  was  his  enterprise 
complete  and  successful.  He  could  go  away  after 
the  cowardly  caution  of  the  moonshiners  should 
have  expended  itself  in  dallying  and  delay,  with 
his  negotiation  for  the  "wild-cat"  ended,  and  his 
accomplished  young  relative  in  charge.  He  drew 


260     THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 

himself  erect  with  a  sense  of  power.  The  moon 
shiners,  the  miller,  would  not  dare  to  make  an  ob 
jection.  He  knew  too  much !  he  knew  far  too 
much ! 

The  door  of  the  furnace  was  suddenly  flung  ajar, 
but  he  was  too  much  absorbed  to  perceive  the 
change  that  came  upon  the  keen  face  of  Hilary 
Tarbetts,  who  knelt  beside  it,  as  the  guest's  porten 
tous  triumphant  smile  was  fully  revealed.  Yerby 
did  not  lose,  however,  the  glance  of  reproach  which 
the  moonshiner  cast  upon  the  miller,  nor  the  miller's 
air  at  once  triumphant,  ashamed,  and  regretful.  He 
had  in  petulant  pique  disclosed  the  circumstance 
which  he  had  pledged  himself  not  to  disclose. 

"  This  man's  name  is  Yerby  too,"  Hilary  said, 
significantly,  gazing  steadily  at  the  miller. 

The  miller  looked  dumfounded  for  a  moment. 
He  stared  from  one  to  the  other  in  silence.  His 
conscious  expression  changed  to  obvious  discom 
fiture.  He  had  expected  no  such  result  as  this. 
He  had  merely  given  way  to  a  momentary  spite  in 
the  disclosure,  thinking  it  entirely  insignificant, 
only  calculated  to  slightly  annoy  Hilary,  who  had 
made  the  affair  his  own.  He  would  not  in  any 
essential  have  thwarted  his  comrade's  plans  in 
tentionally,  nor  in  his  habitual  adherence  to  the 
principles  of  fair  play  would  he  have  assisted  in  the 
boy's  capture.  He  drew  himself  up  from  his  re 
laxed  posture  ;  his  spurred  feet  shuffled  heavily  on 
the  stone  floor  of  the  grotto.  A  bright  red  spot  ap 
peared  on  each  cheek ;  his  eyes  had  become  anxious 
and  subdued  in  the  quick  shiftings  of  temper  com 
mon  to  the  red-haired  gentry ;  his  face  of  helpless 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS      261 

appeal  was  bent  on  Hilary  Tarbetts,  as  if  relying  on 
his  resources  to  mend  the  matter ;  but  ever  and 
anon  he  turned  his  eyes,  animated  with  a  suspi 
cious  dislike,  on  Yerby,  who,  however,  could  have 
snapped  his  ringers  in  the  faces  of  them  all,  so 
confident,  so  hilariously  triumphant  was  he. 

"  Yerby,  I  b'lieve  ye  said  yer  name  war,  an'  so 
did  Peter  Green,"  said  Tarbetts,  still  kneeling  by 
the  open  furnace  door,  his  pale  cheek  reddening 
in  the  glow  of  the  fire. 

Thus  reminded  of  the  testimony  of  his  acquaint 
ance,  Yerby  did  not  venture  to  repudiate  his  cog 
nomen. 

"  An'  what  did  ye  kem  hyar  fur  ?"  blustered  the 
miller.  "  A-sarchin'  fur  the  boy  ?" 

Yerby's  lips  had  parted  to  acknowledge  this  fact, 
but  Tarbetts  suddenly  anticipated  his  response, 
and  answered  for  him  : 

"Oh  no,  Alfred.  Nobody  ain't  sech  a  fool  ez 
ter  kem  hyar  ter  this  hyar  still,  a  stranger  an' 
mebbe  suspected  ez  a  spy,  ter  hunt  up  stray  chil 
dren,  an'  git  thar  heads  shot  off,  or  mebbe  drownded 
in  a  mighty  handy  water-fall,  or  sech.  This  hyar 
man  air  one  o'  we-uns.  He  air  a-tradin'  fur  our 
liquor,  an'  he'll  kerry  a  barrel  away  whenst  he 
goes." 

Yerby  winced  at  the  suggestion  conveyed  so 
definitely  in  this  crafty  speech ;  he  was  glad  when 
the  door  of  the  furnace  closed,  so  that  his  face 
might  not  tell  too  much  of  the  shifting  thoughts 
and  fears  that  possessed  him. 

The  miller's  fickle  mind  wavered  once  more.  If 
Yerby  had  not  come  for  the  boy,  he  himself  had 


262      THE  MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 

done  no  damage  in  disclosing  Leander's  where 
abouts.  Once  more  his  quickly  illumined  anger 
was  kindled  against  Tarbetts,  who  had  caused  him 
a  passing  but  poignant  self-reproach.  "  Waal,  then, 
Hilary,"  he  demanded,  "  what  air  ye  a-raisin'  sech 
a  row  fur  ?  Lee-yander  ain't  noways  so  special  pre 
cious  ez  I  knows  on.  Toler'ble  lazy  an'  triflin',  an' 
mightily  gi'n  over  ter  moonin'  over  a  readin'-book 
he  hev  got.  That  thar  mill  war  a-grindin'  o'  nuthin' 
at  all  more'n  haffen  ter-day,  through  me  bein'  a-nap- 
pin',  and  Lee-yander  plumb  demented  by  his  book  so 
ez  he  furgot  ter  pour  enny  grist  inter  the  hopper. 
Shucks  !  his  kin  is  welcome  ter  enny  sech  critter  ez 
that,  though  I  ain't  denyin'  ez  he'd  be  toler'ble  spry 
ef  he  could  keep  his  nose  out'n  his  book,"  he  quali 
fied,  relenting,  "or  his  fiddle  out'n  his  hands.  I 
made  him  leave  his  fiddle  hyar  ter  the  still,  an'  I  be 
goin'  ter  hide  his  book." 

"  No  need,"  thought  Nehemiah,  scornfully.  Book 
and  scholar  and  it  might  be  fiddle  too,  so  indulgent 
had  the  prospect  of  success  made  him,  would  by  to 
morrow  be  on  the  return  route  to  the  cross-roads. 
He  even  ventured  to  differ  with  the  overbearing 
miller. 

"  I  dun'no'  'bout  that ;  books  an'  edication  in 
gin'ral  air  toler'ble  useful  wunst  in  a  while  ;"  he  was 
thinking  of  the  dark  art  of  dividing  and  multiplying 
by  fractions.  "The  Yerbys  hev  always  hed  the 
name  o'  bein'  quick  at  thar  book." 

Now  the  democratic  sentiment  in  this  country  is 
bred  in  the  bone,  and  few  of  its  denizens  have  so 
diluted  it  with  Christian  grace  as  to  willingly  ac 
knowledge  a  superior.  In  such  a  coterie  as  this 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      263 

"eating  humble-pie"  is  done  only  at  the  muzzle  of 
a  "  shootin'-iron." 

"  Never  hearn  afore  ez  enny  o'  the  Yerbys  knowed 
B  from  bull-foot,"  remarked  one  of  the  unindivid- 
ualized  lumpish  moonshiners,  shadowy,  indistin 
guishable  in  the  circle  about  the  rotund  figure  of 
the  still.  He  yet  retained  acrid  recollections  of 
unavailing  struggles  with  the  alphabet,  and  was 
secretly  of  the  opinion  that  education  was  a  painful 
thing,  and,  like  the  yellow -fever  or  other  deadly 
disease,  not  worth  having.  Nevertheless,  since  it 
was  valued  by  others,  the  Yerbys  should  scathless 
make  no  unfounded  claims.  "  Ef  the  truth  war 
knowed,  nare  one  of  'em  afore  could  tell  a  book 
from  a  bear-trap." 

Nehemiah's  flush  the  darkness  concealed ;  he 
moistened  his  thin  lips,  and  then  gave  a  little  cack 
ling  laugh,  as  if  he  regarded  this  as  pleasantry. 
But  the  demolition  of  the  literary  pretensions  of  his 
family  once  begun  went  bravely  on. 

"  Abner  Sage  larnt  this  hyar  boy  all  he  knows," 
another  voice  took  up  the  testimony.  "  Ab  'lows  ez 
his  mother  war  quick  at  school,  but  his  dad — law ! 
I  knowed  Ebenezer  Yerby !  He  war  a  frien'ly 
sorter  cuss,  goocl-nachurecl  an'  kind-spoken,  but  ye 
could  put  all  the  larnin'  he  hed  in  the  corner  o'  yer 
eye." 

"An'  Lee-yander  don't  favor  none  o'  ye,"  ob 
served  another  of  the  undiscriminated,  unimportant 
members  of  the  group,  who  seemed  to  the  groping 
scrutiny  of  Nehemiah  to  be  only  endowed  with  suf 
ficient  identity  to  do  the  rough  work  of  the  still, 
and  to  become  liable  to  the  Federal  law.  "  Thar's 


264      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 

Hil'ry — he  seen  it  right  off.  Hil'ry  he  tuk  a  look  at 
Lee-yander  whenst  he  wanted  ter  kern  an'  work 
along  o'  we-uns,  'kase  his  folks  wanted  ter  take  him 
away  from  the  Sudleys.  Hil'ry  opened  the  furnace 
door — jes  so ;  an'  he  cotch  the  boy  by  the  arm  " — 
the  great  brawny  fellow,  unconsciously  dramatic, 
suited  the  action  to  the  word,  his  face  and  figure 
illumined  by  the  sudden  red  glow — "  an'  Hil'ry,  he 
say,  'Naw,  by  God — ye  hev  got  yer  mother's  eyes  in 
yer  head,  an'  I'll  swear  ye  sha'n't  larn  ter  be  a  sot!' 
An'  that's  how  kern  Hil'ry  made  Alf  Bixby  take 
Lee-yander  ter  work  in  the  mill.  Ef  ennybody  tuk 
arter  him  he  war  convenient  ter  disappear  down  hyar 
with  we-uns.  So  he  went  ter  the  mill." 

"  An'  I  wisht  I  hed  put  him  in  the  hopper  an' 
ground  him  up,"  said  the  miller,  in  a  blood-curdling 
tone,  but  with  a  look  of  plaintive  anxiety  in  his  eyes. 
"  He  hev  made  a  heap  o'  trouble  'twixt  Hil'ry  an' 
me  fust  an'  last.  Whar's  Hil'ry  disappeared  to,  en- 
ny  ways  ?" 

For  the  flare  from  the  furnace  showed  that  this 
leading  spirit  amongst  the  moonshiners  had  gone 
softly  out.  Nehemiah,  whose  courage  was  dis 
sipated  by  some  subtle  influence  of  his  presence, 
now  made  bold  to  ask,  "An'  what  made  him  ter  set 
store  on  Lee-yander's  mother's  eyes?"  His  tone 
was  as  bluffly  sarcastic  as  he  dared. 

"  Shucks — ye  mus'  hev  hearn  that  old  tale,"  said 
the  miller,  cavalierly.  "This  hyar  Malviny  Hixon 
— ez  lived  down  in  Tanglefoot  Cove  then — her  an' 
Hil'ry  war  promised  ter  marry,  but  the  revenuers 
captured  him — he  war  a-runnin'  a  still  in  Tangle 
foot  then  —  an'  they  kep'  him  in  jail  somewhar  in 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      265 

the  North  fur  five  year.  Waal,  she  waited  toler'ble 
constant  fur  two  or  three  year,  but  Ebenezer  Yerby 
he  kern  a-visitin'  his  kin  down  in  Tanglefoot  Cove, 
an'  she  an'  him  met  at  a  bran  dance,  an'  the  fust 
thing  I  hearn  they  war  married,  an'  'fore  Hil'ry  got 
back  she  war  dead  an'  buried,  an'  so  war  Eben 
ezer." 

There  was  a  pause  while  the  flames  roared  in  the 
furnace,  and  the  falling  water  desperately  dashed 
upon  the  rocks,  and  its  tumultuous  voice  continu 
ously  pervaded  the  silent  void  wildernesses  without, 
and  the  sibilant  undertone,  the  lisping  whisperings, 
smote  the  senses  anew. 

"  He  met  up  with  cornsider'ble  changes  fur  five 
year,"  remarked  one  of  the  men,  regarding  the  mat 
ter  in  its  chronological  aspect. 

Nehemiah  said  nothing.  He  had  heard  the  story 
before,  but  it  had  been  forgotten.  A  worldly  mind 
like  his  is  not  apt  to  burden  itself  with  the  senti 
mental  details  of  an  antenuptial  romance  of  the 
woman  whom  his  half-brother  had  married  many 
years  ago. 

A  persuasion  that  it  was  somewhat  unduly  long- 
lived  impressed  others  of  the  party. 

"  It's  plumb  cur'us  Hil'ry  ain't  never  furgot  her," 
observed  one  of  them.  "  He  hev  never  married  at 
all.  My  wife  says  it's  jes  contrariousness.  Ef  Mal- 
viny  hed  been  his  wife  an'  died,  he'd  hev  married 
agin  'fore  the  year  war  out.  An'  I  tell  my  wife 
that  he'd  hev  been  better  acquainted  with  her  then, 
an'  would  hev  fund  out  ez  no  woman  war  wuth 
mournin'  'bout  fur  nigh  twenty  year.  My  wife  says 
she  can't  make  out  ez  how  Hil'ry  'ain't  got  pride 


266     THE  MOONSHINERS  AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 

enough  not  ter  furgive  her  fur  givin'  him  the  mitten 
like  she  done.  An'  I  tell  my  wife  that  holdin'  a 
gredge  agin  a  woman  fur  bein'  fickle  is  like  holdin' 
a  gredge  agin  her  fur  bein'  a  woman." 

He  paused  with  an  air,  perceived  somehow  in  the 
brown  dusk,  of  having  made  a  very  neat  point.  A 
stir  of  assent  was  vaguely  suggested  when  some 
chivalric  impulse  roused  a  champion  at  the  farther 
side  of  the  worm,  whose  voice  rang  out  brusquely: 

"Jes  listen  at  Tom  !  A  body  ter  hear  them  tales 
he  tells  'bout  argufyin'  with  his  wife  would  'low  he 
war  a  mighty  smart,  apt  man,  an'  the  pore  foolish 
'oman  skeercely  hed  a  sensible  word  ter  bless  her 
self  with.  When  everybody  that  knows  Tom  knows 
he  sings  mighty  small  round  home.  Ye  stopped  too 
soon,  Tom.  Tell  what  yer  wife  said  to  that." 

Tom's  embarrassed  feet  shuffled  heavily  on  the 
rocks,  apparently  in  search  of  subterfuge.  The 
dazzling  glintings  from  the  crevices  of  the  furnace 
door  showed  here  and  there  gleaming  teeth  broadly 
agrin. 

"Jes  called  me  a  fool  in  gineral,"  admitted  the 
man  skilled  in  argument. 

"  An'  didn't  she  'low  ez  men  folks  war  fickle  too, 
an'  remind  ye  o'  yer  young  days  whenst  ye  went 
a-courtin'  hyar  an'  thar,  an'  tell  over  a  string  o'  gals' 
names  till  she  sounded  like  an  off'cer  callin'  the 
roll  ?" 

"  Ye-es,"  admitted  Tom,  thrown  off  his  balance 
by  this  preternatural  insight,  "  but  all  them  gals  war 
a-tryin'  ter  marry  me  —  not  me  tryin'  ter  marry 
them." 

There  was  a  guffaw  at  this  modest  assertion,  but 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT    HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS      267 

the  disaffected  miller's  tones  dominated  the  rude 
merriment. 

"  Whenst  a  feller  takes  ter  drink  folks  kin  spell 
out  a  heap  o'  reasons  but  the  true  one — an'  that's 
'kase  he  likes  it.  Hil'ry  'ain't  never  named  that 
'omarfs  name  ter  me,  an'  I  hev  knowed  him  ez  well 
ez  ennybody  hyar.  Jes  t'other  day  whenst  that  boy 
kern,  bein'  foolish  an'  maudlin,  he  seen  suthin'  on- 
common  in  Lee-yander's  eyes  —  they'll  be  mighty 
oncommon  ef  he  keeps  on  readin'  his  tomfool  book, 
ez  he  knows  by  heart,  by  the  firelight  when  it's  dim. 
Ef  folks  air  so  sot  agin  strong  drink,  let  'em  drink 
less  tharsefs.  Hear  Brother  Peter  Vickers  preach 
agin  liquor,  an'  ye'd  know  ez  all  wine  -  bibbers  air 
bound  fur  hell." ' 

"  But  the  Bible  don't  name  *  whiskey  '  once,"  said 
the  man  called  Tom,  in  an  argumentative  tone. 
"  Low  wines  I'll  gin  ye  up ;"  he  made  the  discrim 
ination  in  accents  betokening  much  reasonable  ad 
mission  ;  "but  nare  time  does  the  Bible  name  whis 
key,  nor  yit  peach  brandy,  nor  apple-jack." 

"  Nor  cider  nor  beer,"  put  in  an  unexpected  re 
cruit  from  the  darkness. 

The  miller  was  silent  for  a  moment,  and  gave 
token  of  succumbing  to  this  unexpected  polemic 
strength.  Then,  taking  thought  and  courage  to 
gether,  "Ye  can't  say  the  Bible  ain't  down  on 
1  strong  drink  '  ?"  There  was  no  answer  from  the 
vanquished,  and  he  went  on  in  the  overwhelming 
miller's  voice  :  "Hil'ry  hed  better  be  purtectin'  his- 
self  from  strong  drink,  'stiddier  the  boy — by  makin' 
him  stay  up  thar  at  the  mill  whar  he  knows  thar's 
no  drinkin'  goin'  on — ez  will  git  chances  at  it  other 


268     THE   MOONSHINERS   AT    HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

ways,  ef  not  through  him,  in  the  long  life  he  hev  got 
ter  live.  The  las'  time  the  revenuers  got  Hil'ry 
'twar  through  bein'  ez  drunk  ez  a  fraish-biled  owl. 
It  makes  me  powerful  oneasy  whenever  I  know  ye 
air  all  drunk  an'  a-gallopadin'  down  hyar,  an'  no  mo' 
able  to  act  reasonable  in  case  o'  need  an'  purtect 
yersefs  agin  spies  an'  revenuers  an'  sech  'n  nuthin' 
in  this  worl'.  The  las'  raid,  ye  'member,  we  hed  the 
still  overyander;"  he  jerked  his  thumb  in  the  direc 
tion  present  to  his  thoughts,  but  unseen  by  his  coad 
jutors;  "a  man  war  wounded,  an'  we  dun'no'  but 
what  killed  in  the  scuffle,  an1  it  mought  be  a  hang- 
in'  matter  ter  git  caught  now.  Ye  oughter  keep 
sober ;  an'  ye  know,  Isham,  ye  oughter  keep  Hil'ry 
sober.  I  dun'no'  why  ye  can't.  I  never  could 
abide  the  nasty  stuff — it's  enough  ter  turn  a  bull 
frog's  stomach.  Whiskey  is  good  ter  sell — not  ter 
drink.  Let  them  consarned  idjits  in  the  flat  woods 
buy  it,  an'  drink  it.  Whiskey  is  good  ter  sell — not 
ter  drink." 

This  peculiar  temperance  argument  was  received 
in  thoughtful  silence,  the  reason  of  all  the  moun 
taineers  commending  it,  while  certain  of  them  knew 
themselves  and  were  known  to  be  incapable  of  prof 
iting  by  it. 

Nehemiah  had  scant  interest  in  this  conversation. 
He  was  conscious  of  the  strain  on  his  attention  as 
he  followed  it,  that  every  point  of  the  situation 
should  be  noted,  and  its  utility  canvassed  at  a  leisure 
moment.  He  marked  the  allusion  to  the  man  sup 
posed  to  have  been  killed  in  the  skirmish  with  the 
raiders,  and  he  appraised  its  value  as  coercion  in 
any  altercation  that  he  might  have  in  seeking  to 


THE    MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS      269 

take  Leander  from  his  present  guardians.  But  he 
felt  in  elation  that  this  was  likely  to  be  of  the 
slightest ;  the  miller  evidently  found  himself  ham 
pered  rather  than  helped  by  the  employment  of  the 
boy ;  and  as  to  the  moonshiner's  sentimental  parti 
sanship,  for  the  sake  of  an  old  attachment  to  the 
dead-and-gone  mountain  girl,  there  was  hardly  any 
thing  in  the  universe  so  tenuous  as  to  bear  compar 
ison  with  its  fragility.  "  A  few  drinks  ahead,"  he 
said  to  himself,  with  a  sneer,  "  an'  he  won't  remem 
ber  who  Malviny  Hixon  was,  ef  thar  is  ennything  in 
the  old  tale — which  it's  more'n  apt  thar  ain't." 

He  began,  after  the  fashion  of  successful  people, 
to  cavil  because  his  success  was  not  more  complete. 
How  the  time  was  wasting  here  in  this  uncomfort 
able  interlude  !  Why  could  he  not  have  discovered 
Leander's  whereabouts  earlier,  and  by  now  be  jog 
ging  along  the  road  home  with  the  boy  by  his  side  ? 
Why  had  he  not  bethought  himself  of  the  mill  in 
the  first  instance — that  focus  of  gossip  where  all  the 
news  of  the  countryside  is  mysteriously  garnered 
and  thence  dispensed  bounteously  to  all  comers? 
It  was  useless,  as  he  fretted  and  chafed  at  these  un 
toward  omissions,  to  urge  in  his  own  behalf  that  he 
did  not  know  of  the  existence  of  the  mill,  and  that 
the  miller,  being  an  ungenial  and  choleric  man, 
might  have  perversely  lent  himself  to  resisting  his 
demand  for  the  custody  of  the  young  runaway.  No, 
he  told  himself  emphatically,  and  with  good  logic, 
too,  the  miller's  acrimony  rose  from  the  fact  of  a 
stranger's  discovery  of  the  still  and  the  danger  of  his 
introduction  into  its  charmed  circle.  And  that  re 
flection  reminded  him  anew  of  his  own  danger  here 


270      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT  HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

— not  from  the  lawless  denizens  of  the  place,  but 
from  the  forces  which  he  himself  had  evoked,  and 
again  he  glanced  out  toward  the  water-fall  as  fear 
ful  of  the  raiders  as  any  moonshiner  of  them  all. 

But  what  sudden  glory  was  on  the  waters,  mystic, 
white,  an  opaque  brilliance  upon  the  swirling  foam 
and  the  bounding  spray,  a  crystalline  glitter  upon 
the  smooth  expanse  of  the  swift  cataract !  The  moon 
was  in  the  sky,  and  its  light,  with  noiseless  tread, 
sought  out  strange,  lonely  places,  and  illusions  were 
astir  in  the  solitudes.  Pensive  peace,  thoughts  too 
subtle  for  speech  to  shape,  spiritual  yearnings,  were 
familiars  of  the  hour  and  of  this  melancholy  splen 
dor  ;  but  he  knew  none  of  them,  and  the  sight  gave 
him  no  joy.  He  only  thought  that  this  was  a  night 
for  the  saddle,  for  the  quiet  invasion  of  the  woods, 
when  the  few  dwellers  by  the  way-side  were  lost  in 
slumber.  He  trembled  anew  at  the  thought  of  the 
raiders  whom  he  himself  had  summoned  ;  he  forgot 
his  curses  on  their  laggard  service  ;  he  upbraided 
himself  again  that  he  had  not  earlier  made  shift  to 
depart  by  some  means — by  any  means — before  the 
night  came  with  this  great  emblazoning  bold-faced 
moon  that  but  prolonged  the  day  ;  and  he  started 
to  his  feet  with  a  galvanic  jerk  and  a  sharp  exclama 
tion  when  swift  steps  were  heard  on  the  rocks  out 
side,  and  a  man  with  the  lightness  of  a  deer  sprang 
down  the  ledges  and  into  the  great  arched  opening 
of  the  place. 

"Tain't  nobody  but  Hil'ry,"  observed  Isham 
Beaton,  half  in  reproach,  half  in  reassurance. 

The  pervasive  light  without  dissipated  in  some 
degree  the  gloom  within  the  grotto ;  a  sort  of  gray 


THE    MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      271 

visibility  was  on  the  appurtenances  and  the  figures 
about  the  still,  not  strong  enough  to  suggest  color, 
but  giving  contour.  His  fright  had  been  marked, 
he  knew ;  a  sort  of  surprised  reflectiveness  was  in 
the  manner  of  several  of  the  moonshiners,  and  Ne- 
hemiah,  with  his  ready  fears,  fancied  that  this  inop 
portune  show  of  terror  had  revived  their  suspicions 
of  him.  It  required  some  effort  to  steady  his  nerves 
after  this,  and  when  footfalls  were  again  audible  out 
side,  and  all  the  denizens  of  the  place  sat  calmly 
smoking  their  pipes  without  so  much  as  a  movement 
toward  investigating  the  sound,  he,  knowing  whose 
steps  he  had  invited  thither,  had  great  ado  with  the 
coward  within  to  keep  still,  as  if  he  had  no  more  rea- 
soq  to  fear  an  approach  than  they. 

A  great  jargon  in  the  tone  of  ecstasy  broke  sud 
denly  on  the  air  upon  this  new  entrance,  shatter 
ing  what  little  composure  Nehemiah  had  been  able 
to  muster  ;  a  wide-mouthed  exaggeration  of  welcome 
in  superlative  phrases  and  ready  chorus.  Swiftly 
turning,  he  saw  nothing  for  a  moment,  for  he  looked 
at  the  height  which  a  man's  head  might  reach,  and 
the  new-comer  measured  hardly  two  feet  in  stature, 
waddled  with  a  very  uncertain  gait,  and  although  he 
bore  himself  with  manifest  complacence,  he  had  evi 
dently  heard  the  like  before,  as  he  was  jovially  hailed 
by  every  ingratiating  epithet  presumed  to  be  accept 
able  to  his  infant  mind.  He  was  attended  by  a  tall, 
gaunt  boy  of  fifteen,  barefooted,  with  snaggled  teeth 
and  a  shock  of  tow  hair,  wearing  a  shirt  of  unbleached 
cotton,  and  a  pair  of  trousers  supported  by  a  single 
suspender  drawn  across  a  sharp,  protuberant  shoul 
der-blade  behind  and  a  very  narrow  chest  in  front. 


272      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

But  his  face  was  proud  and  happy  and  gleeful,  as  if  he 
occupied  some  post  of  honor  and  worldly  emolument 
in  attending  upon  the  waddling  wonder  on  the  floor 
in  front  of  him,  instead  of  being  assigned  the  ungrate 
ful  task  of  seeing  to  it  that  a  very  ugly  baby  closely 
related  to  him  did  not,  with  the  wiliness  and  inge 
nuity  of  infant  nature,  invent  some  method  of  mak 
ing  away  with  himself.  For  he  was  an  ugly  baby  as 
he  stood  revealed  in  the  flare  of  the  furnace  door, 
thrown  open  that  his  admirers  and  friends  might 
feast  their  eyes  upon  him.  His  short  wisps  of  red 
hair  stood  straight  up  in  front ;  his  cheeks  were  puffy 
and  round,  but  very  rosy ;  his  eyes  were  small  and 
dark,  but  blandly  roguish ;  his  mouth  was  wide  and 
damp,  and  had  in  it  a  small  selection  of  sample 
teeth,  as  it  were  ;  he  wore  a  blue  checked  home 
spun  dress  garnished  down  the  back  with  big  horn 
buttons,  sparsely  set  on  ;  he  clasped  his  chubby 
hands  upon  a  somewhat  pompous  stomach  ;  he  si 
dled  first  to  the  right,  then  to  the  left,  in  doubt  as  to 
which  of  the  various  invitations  he  should  accept. 

"  Kern  hyar,  Snooks  !"  "  Right  hyar,  Toodles  !" 
"  Me  hyar,  Monkey  Doodle  f  "  Hurrah  fur  the  lee- 
tle-est  moonshiner  on  record  !"  resounded  fulsomely 
about  him.  Many  were  the  compliments  showered 
upon  him,  and  if  his  flatterers  told  lies,  they  had  told 
more  wicked  ones.  The  pipes  all  went  out,  and  the 
broken-nosed  pitcher  languished  in  disuse  as  he  trot 
ted  from  one  pair  of  outstretched  arms  to  another  to 
give  an  exhibition  of  his  progress  in  the  noble  art  of 
locomotion  ;  and  if  he  now  and  again  sat  down,  un 
expectedly  to  himself  and  to  the  spectator,  he  was 
promptly  put  upon  his  feet  again  with  spurious  ap- 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      273 

plause  and  encouragement.  He  gave  an  exhibition 
of  his  dancing — a  funny  little  shuffle  of  exceeding  te 
merity,  considering  the  facilities  at  his  command  for 
that  agile  amusement,  but  he  was  made  reckless  by 
praise — and  they  all  lied  valiantly  in  chorus.  He  re 
peated  all  the  words  he  knew,  which  were  few,  and 
for  the  most  part  unintelligible,  crowed  like  a  cock, 
barked  like  a  dog,  mewed  like  a  cat,  and  finally  went 
away,  his  red  cheeks  yet  more  ruddily  aglow,  grave 
and  excited  and  with  quickly  beating  pulses,  like 
one  who  has  achieved  some  great  public  success  and 
led  captive  the  hearts  of  thousands. 

The  turmoils  of  his  visit  and  his  departure  were 
great  indeed.  It  all  irked  Nehemiah  Yerby,  who  had 
scant  toleration  of  infancy  and  little  perception  of  the 
jocosity  of  the  aspect  of  callow  human  nature,  and  it 
seemed  strange  to  him  that  these  men,  all  with  their 
liberty,  even  their  existence,  jeopardized  upon  the 
chances  that  a  moment  might  bring  forth,  could  so 
relax  their  sense  of  danger,  so  disregard  the  man 
dates  of  stolid  common-sense,  and  give  themselves 
over  to  the  puerile  beguilements  of  the  visitor.  The 
little  animal  was  the  son  of  one  of  them,  he  knew, 
but  he  hardly  guessed  whom  until  he  marked  the 
paternal  pride  and  content  that  had  made  unwont- 
edly  placid  the  brow  of  the  irate  miller  while  the 
ovation  was  in  progress.  Nehemiah  greatly  pre 
ferred  the  adult  specimen  of  the  race,  and  looked 
upon  youth  as  an  infirmity  which  would  mend  only 
with  time.  He  was  easily  confused  by  a  stir ;  the 
gurglings,  the  ticklings,  the  loud  laughter  both  in 
the  deep  bass  of  the  hosts  and  the  keen  treble  of 
the  guest  had  a  befuddling  effect  upon  him  ;  his 
18 


274      THE   MOONSHINERS    AT    HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

powers  of  observation  were  numbed.  As  the  great, 
burly  forms  shifted  to  and  fro,  resuming  their  for 
mer  places,  the  red  light  from  the  open  door  of  the 
furnace  illumining  their  laughing,  bearded  counte 
nances,  casting  a  roseate  suffusion  upon  the  white 
turmoils  of  the  cataract,  and  showing  the  rugged  in 
terior  of  the  place  with  its  damp  and  dripping  ledges, 
he  saw  for  the  first  time  among  them  Leander's  slight 
figure  and  smiling  face  ;  the  violin  was  in  his  hand, 
one  end  resting  on  a  rock  as  he  tightened  a  string; 
his  eyes  were  bent  upon  the  instrument,  while  his 
every  motion  was  earnestly  watched  by  the  would-be 
fiddler. 

Nehemiah  started  hastily  to  his  feet.  He  had 
not  expected  that  the  boy  would  see  him  here.  To 
share  with  one  of  his  own  household  a  secret  like 
this  of  aiding  in  illicit  distilling  was  more  than  his 
hardihood  could  well  contemplate.  As  once  more 
the  contemned  "  ping-pang  "  of  the  process  of  tuning 
fell  upon  the  air,  Leander  chanced  to  lift  his  eyes. 
They  smilingly  swept  the  circle  until  they  rested 
upon  his  uncle.  They  suddenly  dilated  with  as 
tonishment,  and  the  violin  fell  from  his  nerveless 
hand  upon  the  floor.  The  surprise,  the  fear,  the 
repulsion  his  face  expressed  suddenly  emboldened 
Nehemiah.  The  boy  evidently  had  not  been  pre 
pared  for  the  encounter  with  his  relative  here.  Its 
only  significance  to  his  mind  was  the  imminence  of 
capture  and  of  being  constrained  to  accompany  his 
uncle  home.  He  cast  a  glance  of  indignant  re 
proach  upon  Hilary  Tarbetts,  who  was  not  even 
looking  at  him.  The  moonshiner  stood  filling  his 
pipe  with  tobacco,  and  as  he  deftly  extracted  a  coal 


THE  MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE  FALLS      275 

from  the  furnace  to  set  it  alight,  he  shut  the  door 
with  a  clash,  and  for  a  moment  the  whole  place 
sunk  into  invisibility,  the  vague  radiance  vouchsafed 
to  the  recesses  of  the  grotto  by  the  moonbeams  on 
the  water  without  annihilated  for  the  time  by  the 
contrast  with  the  red  furnace  glare.  Nehemiah  had 
a  swift  fear  that  in  this  sudden  eclipse  Leander 
might  slip  softly  out  and  thus  be  again  lost  to  him, 
but  as  the  dull  gray  light  gradually  reasserted  itself, 
and  the  figures  and  surroundings  emerged  from  the 
gloom,  resuming  shape  and  consistency,  he  saw 
Leander  still  standing  where  he  had  disappeared 
in  the  darkness ;  he  could  even  distinguish  his  pale 
face  and  lustrous  eyes.  Leander  at  least  had  no 
intention  to  shirk  explanations. 

"Why,  Uncle  Nehemiah  !"  he  said,  his  boyish 
voice  ringing  out  tense  and  excited  above  the  tones 
of  the  men,  once  more  absorbed  in  their  wonted  in 
terests.  A  sudden  silence  ensued  amongst  them. 
"  What  air  ye  a-doin'  hyar  ?" 

"  Waal,  ah,  Lee-yander,  boy — "  Nehemiah  hesi 
tated.  A  half-suppressed  chuckle  among  the  men, 
whom  he  had  observed  to  be  addicted  to  horse-play, 
attested  their  relish  of  the  situation.  Ridicule  is 
always  of  unfriendly  intimations,  and  the  sound 
served  to  put  Nehemiah  on  his  guard  anew.  He 
noticed  that  the  glow  in  Hilary's  pipe  was  still  and 
dull :  the  smoker  did  not  even  draw  his  breath  as 
he  looked  and  listened.  Yerby  did  not  dare  avow 
the  true  purpose  of  his  presence  after  his  represen 
tations  to  the  moonshiners,  and  yet  he  could  not, 
he  would  not  in  set  phrase  align  himself  with  the 
illicit  vocation.  The  boy  was  too  young,  too  irre- 


276      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

sponsible,  too  inimical  to  his  uncle,  he  reflected  in 
a  sudden  panic,  to  be  intrusted  with  this  secret.  If 
in  his  hap-hazard,  callow  folly  he  should  turn  in 
former,  he  was  almost  too  young  to  be  amenable  to 
the  popular  sense  of  justice.  He  might,  too,  by 
some  accident  rather  than  intention,  divulge  the 
important  knowledge  so  unsuitable  to  his  years  and 
his  capacity  for  guarding  it.  He  began  to  share 
the  miller's  aversion  to  the  introduction  of  outsiders 
to  the  still.  He  felt  a  glow  of  indignation,  as  if  he 
had  always  been  a  party  in  interest,  that  the  com 
mon  safety  should  not  be  more  jealously  guarded. 
The  danger  which  Leander's  youth  and  inexperience 
threatened  had  not  been  so  apparent  to  him  when 
he  first  heard  that  the  boy  had  been  here,  and  the 
menace  was  merely  for  the  others.  As  he  felt  the 
young  fellow's  eyes  upon  him  he  recalled  the  ef 
fusive  piety  of  his  conversation  at  Tyler  Sudley's 
house,  his  animadversions  on  violin -playing  and 
liquor -drinking,  and  Brother  Peter  Vickers's  mild 
and  merciful  attitude  toward  sinners  in  those  un- 
spiced  sermons  of  his,  that  held  out  such  affluence 
of  hope  to  the  repentant  rather  than  to  the  self- 
righteous.  The  blood  surged  unseen  into  Nehe- 
miah's  face.  For  shame,  for  very  shame  he  could 
not  confess  himself  one  with  these  outcasts.  He 
made  a  feint  of  searching  in  the  semi-obscurity  for 
the  rickety  chair  on  which  he  had  been  seated,  and 
resumed  his  former  attitude  as  Leander's  voice  once 
more  rang  out: 

"  What  air  ye  a-doin'  hyar,  Uncle  Nehemiah  ?" 

"Jes  a-visitin1,  sonny  ;  jes  a-visitin'." 

There  was  a  momentary  pause,  and  the  felicity  of 


THE  MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      277 

the  answer  was  demonstrated  by  another  chuckle 
from  the  group.  His  senses,  alert  to  the  emergency, 
discriminated  a  difference  in  the  tone.  This  time 
the  laugh  was  with  him  rather  than  at  him.  He 
noted,  too,  Leander's  dumfounded  pause,  and  the 
suggestion  of  discomfiture  in  the  boy's  lustrous  eyes, 
still  widely  fixed  upon  him.  As  Leander  stooped  to 
pick  up  the  violin  he  remarked  with  an  incidental 
accent,  and  evidently  in  default  of  retort,  "  I  be 
powerful  s'prised  ter  view  ye  hyar." 

Nehemiah  smarted  under  the  sense  of  unmerited 
reproach  ;  so  definitely  aware  was  he  of  being  out 
of  the  character  which  he  had  assumed  and  worn 
until  it  seemed  even  to  him  his  own,  that  he  felt  as 
if  he  were  constrained  to  some  ghastly  masquerade. 
Even  the  society  of  the  moonshiners  as  their  guest 
was  a  reproach  to  one  who  had  always  piously,  and 
in  such  involuted  and  redundant  verbiage,  spurned 
the  ways  and  haunts  of  the  evil-doer.  According  to 
the  dictates  of  policy  he  should  have  rested  content 
with  his  advantage  over  the  silenced  lad.  But  his 
sense  of  injury  engendered  a  desire  of  reprisal,  and 
he  impulsively  carried  the  war  into  the  enemy's 
country. 

"  I  ain't  in  no  ways  s'prised  ter  view  you-uns  hyar, 
Lee-yander,"  he  said.  "  From  the  ways,  Lee-yander, 
ez  ye  hev  been  brung  up  by  them  slack-twisted  Sud- 
leys — ungodly  folks  'ceptin'  what  little  regeneration 
they  kin  git  from  the  sermons  of  Brother  Peter  Vick- 
ers,  who  air  onsartain  in  his  mind  whether  folks  ez 
ain't  church-members  air  goin'  ter  be  damned  or  no 
—I  ain't  s'prised  none  ter  view  ye  hyar."  He  sud 
denly  remembered  poor  Laurelia's  arrogations  of 


2/8     THE  MOONSHINERS  AT  HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 

special  piety,  and  it  was  with  exceeding  ill  will  that 
he  added  :  "  An'  Mis'  Sudley  in  partic'lar.  Ty  ain't 
no  great  shakes  ez  a  shoutin'  Christian.  I  dun'no' 
ez  I  ever  hearn  him  shout  once,  but  his  wife  air  one 
o'  the  reg'lar,  mournful,  unrejicing  members,  always 
questioning  the  decrees  of  Providence,  an'  what  ain't 
no  nigher  salvation,  ef  the  truth  war  knowed,  'n  a 
sinner  with  the  throne  o'  grace  yit  ter  find." 

Leander  had  not  picked  up  the  violin  ;  this  dis 
quisition  had  arrested  his  hand  until  his  intention 
was  forgotten.  He  came  slowly  to  the  perpendicu 
lar,  and  his  eyes  gleamed  in  the  dusk.  A  vibration 
of  anger  was  in  his  voice  as  he  retorted  : 

"Mebbe  so — mebbe  they  air  sinners;  but  they'd 
look  powerful  comical  'visitin''  hyar !" 

"Ty  Sudley  ain't  one  o'  the  drinkin'  kind,"  inter 
polated  the  miller,  who  evidently  had  the  makings 
of  a  temperance  man.  "  He  never  sot  foot  hyar  in 
his  life." 

"Them  ez  kem  a-visitin'  hyar,"  blustered  the  boy, 
full  of  the  significance  of  his  observations  and  ex 
perience,  "air  either  wantin'  a  drink  or  two  'thout 
payin'  fur  it,  or  else  air  tradin'  fur  liquor  ter  sell,  an' 
that's  the  same  ez  moonshinin'  in  the  law." 

There  was  a  roar  of  delight  from  the  circle  of 
lumpish  figures  about  the  still  which  told  the  boy 
that  he  had  hit  very  near  to  the  mark.  Nehemiah 
hardly  waited  for  it  to  subside  before  he  made  an 
effort  to  divert  Leander's  attention. 

"  An'  what  201  you-uns  doin'  hyar?"  he  demanded. 
"Tit  for  tat." 

"Why,"  bluffly  declared  Leander,  "  I  be  a-runnin' 
away  from  you-uns.  An'  I  'lowed  the  still  war  one 


THE    MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      279 

place  whar  I'd  be  sure  o'  not  meetin'  ye.  Not  ez  I 
hev  got  ennything  agin  moonshinin'  nuther,"  he 
added,  hastily,  mindful  of  a  seeming  reflection  on 
his  refuge.  "  Moonshinin'  is  business,  though  the 
United  States  don't  seem  ter  know  it.  But  I  hev 
hearn  ye  carry  on  so  pious  'bout  not  lookin'  on  the 
wine  whenst  it  be  red,  that  I  'lowed  ye  wouldn't  like 
ter  look  on  the  still  whenst — whenst  it's  yaller."  He 
pointed  with  a  burst  of  callow  merriment  at  the  big 
copper  vessel,  and  once  more  the  easily  excited 
mirth  of  the  circle  burst  forth  irrepressibly. 

Encouraged  by  this  applause,  Leander  resumed  : 
"  Why,  /even  turns  my  back  on  the  still  myself  out'n 
respec'  ter  the  family — Cap'n  an'  Neighbor  bein'  so 
set  agin  liquor.  Cap'n's  ekal  ter  preachin'  on  it  ef 
ennything  onexpected  war  ter  happen  ter  Brother 
Vickers.  An'  when  I  hev  ter  view  it,  I  look  at  it 
sorter  cross-eyed."  The  flickering  line  of  light  from 
the  crevice  of  the  furnace  door  showed  that  he  was 
squinting  frightfully,  with  the  much-admired  eyes  his 
mother  had  bequeathed  to  him,  at  the  rotund  shadow, 
with  the  yellow  gleams  of  the  metal  barely  suggested 
in  the  brown  dusk.  "  So  I  tuk  ter  workin'  at  the 
mill.  An'  /  hev  got  nuthin'  ter  do  with  the  still." 
There  was  a  pause.  Then,  with  a  strained  tone  of 
appeal  in  his  voice,  for  a  future  with  Uncle  Nehe- 
miah  had  seemed  very  terrible  to  him,  "  So  ye  warn't 
a-sarchin'  hyar  fur  me,  war  ye,  Uncle  Nehemiah  ?" 

Nehemiah  was  at  a  loss.  There  is  a  peculiar  glu 
tinous  quality  in  the  resolve  of  a  certain  type  of  char 
acter  which  is  not  allied  to  steadfastness  of  purpose, 
nor  has  it  the  enlightened  persistence  of  obstinacy. 
In  view  of  his  earlier  account  of  his  purpose  he 


280      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 

could  not  avow  his  errand  ;  it  bereft  him  of  naught 
to  disavow  it,  for  Uncle  Nehemiah  was  one  of  those 
gifted  people  who,  in  common  parlance,  do  not  mind 
what  they  say.  Yet  his  reluctance  to  assure  Lean- 
der  that  he  was  not  the  quarry  that  had  led  him  into 
these  wilds  so  mastered  him,  the  spurious  relinquish- 
ment  had  so  the  aspect  of  renunciation,  that  he  hes 
itated,  started  to  speak,  again  hesitated,  so  palpably 
that  Hilary  Tarbetts  felt  impelled  to  take  a  hand  in 
the  game. 

''  Why  don't  ye  sati'fy  the  boy,  Yerby  ?"  he  said, 
brusquely.  He  took  his  pipe  out  of  his  mouth  and 
turned  to  Leander.  "Naw,  bub.  He's  jes  tradin'  fur 
bresh  whiskey,  that's  all ;  he's  sorter  skeery  'bout 
bein'  a  wild-catter,  an'  he  didn't  want  ye  ter  know 
it." 

The  point  of  red  light,  the  glow  of  his  pipe,  the 
only  exponent  of  his  presence  in  the  dusky  recess 
where  he  sat,  shifted  with  a  quick,  decisive  motion 
as  he  restored  it  to  his  lips. 

The  blood  rushed  to  Nehemiah's  head  ;  he  was 
dizzy  for  a  moment ;  he  heard  his  heart  thump  heav 
ily  ;  he  saw,  or  he  fancied  he  saw,  the  luminous  dis- 
tention  of  Leander's  eyes  as  this  Goliath  of  his  bat 
tles  was  thus  delivered  into  his  hands.  To  meet 
him  here  proved  nothing ;  the  law  was  not  violated 
by  Nehemiah  in  the  mere  knowledge  that  illicit 
whiskey  was  in  process  of  manufacture  ;  a  dozen 
different  errands  might  have  brought  him.  But  this 
statement  put  a  sword,  as  it  were,  into  the  boy's 
hands,  and  he  dared  not  deny  it. 

"  'Pears  ter  me,"  he  blurted  out  at  last,  "  ez  ye  air 
powerful  slack  with  yer  jaw." 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      281 

"Lee-yander  ain't,"  coolly  returned  Tarbetts. 
"  He  knows  all  thar  is  ter  know  'bout  we-uns  —  an' 
•why  air  ye  not  ter  share  our  per'ls?" 

"  I  ain't  likely  ter  tell,"  Leander  jocosely  reas 
sured  him.  "  But  I  can't  help  thinkin'  how  it  would 
rejice  that  good  Christian  'oman,  Cap'n  Sudley,  ez 
war  made  ter  set  on  sech  a  low  stool  'bout  my  pore 
old  fiddle." 

And  thus  reminded  of  the  instrument,  he  picked 
it  up,  and  once  more,  with  the  bow  held  aloft  in  his 
hand,  he  dexterously  twanged  the  strings,  and  with 
his  deft  fingers  rapidly  and  discriminatingly  turned 
the  screws,  this  one  up  and  that  one  down.  The  ear 
nest  would-be  musician,  who  had  languished  while 
the  discussion  was  in  progress,  now  plucked  up  a 
freshened  interest,  and  begged  that  the  furnace  door 
might  be  set  ajar  to  enable  him  to  watch  the  process 
of  tuning  and  perchance  to  detect  its  subtle  secret. 
I^o  objection  was  made,  for  the  still  was  nearly 
empty,  and  arrangements  tending  to  replenishment 
were  beginning  to  be  inaugurated  by  several  of  the 
men,  who  were  examining  the  mash  in  tubs  in  the 
further  recesses  of  the  place.  They  were  lighted  by 
a  lantern  which,  swinging  to  and  fro  as  they  moved, 
sometimes  so  swiftly  as  to  induce  a  temporary  fluc 
tuation  threatening  eclipse,  suggested  in  the  dusk  the 
erratic  orbit  of  an  abnormally  magnified  fire-fly.  It 
barely  glimmered,  the  dullest  point  of  white  light, 
when  the  rich  flare  from  the  opening  door  of  the 
furnace  gushed  forth  and  the  whole  rugged  interior 
was  illumined  with  its  color.  The  inadequate  moon 
light  fell  away  ;  the  chastened  white  splendor  on  the 
foam  of  the  cataract,  the  crystalline  glitter,  timorous- 


282      THE   MOONSHINERS  AT    HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 

lyand  elusively shifting,  were  annihilated;  the  swift 
ly  descending  water  showed  from  within  only  a  con 
tinuously  moving  glow  of  yellow  light,  all  the  bright 
er  from  the  dark-seeming  background  of  the  world 
glimpsed  without.  A  wind  had  risen,  unfelt  in  these 
recesses  and  on  the  weighty  volume  of  the  main 
sheet  of  falling  water,  but  at  its  verge  the  fitful 
gusts  diverted  its  downward  course,  tossing  slender 
jets  aslant,  and  sending  now  and  again  a  shower  of 
spray  into  the  cavern.  Nehemiah  remembered  his 
rheumatism  with  a  shiver.  The  shadows  of  the  men, 
instead  of  an  unintelligible  comminglement  with  the 
dusk,  were  now  sharp  and  distinct,  and  the  light 
grotesquely  duplicated  them  till  the  cave  seemed  full 
of  beings  who  were  not  there  a  moment  before — 
strange  gnomes,  clumsy  and  burly,  slow  of  move 
ment,  but  swift  and  mysterious  of  appearance  and 
disappearance.  The  beetling  ledges  here  and  there 
imprinted  strong  black  similitudes  of  their  jagged 
contours  on  the  floor  ;  with  the  glowing,  weird  illumi 
nation  the  place  seemed  far  more  uncanny  than  be 
fore,  and  Leander,  with  his  face  pensive  once  more 
in  response  to  the  gentle  strains  slowly  elicited  by 
the  bow  trembling  with  responsive  ecstasy,  his  large 
eyes  full  of  dreamy  lights,  his  curling  hair  falling 
about  his  cheek  as  it  rested  upon  the  violin,  his  fig 
ure,  tall  and  slender  and  of  an  adolescent  grace, 
might  have  suggested  to  the  imagination  a  rem 
iniscence  of  Orpheus  in  Hades.  They  all  lis 
tened  in  languid  pleasure,  without  the  effort  to  ap 
praise  the  music  or  to  compare  it  with  other  per 
formances — the  bane  of  more  cultured  audiences  ; 
only  the  ardent  amateur,  seated  close  at  hand  on  a 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      283 

bowlder,  watched  the  bowing  with  a  scrutiny  which 
betokened  earnest  anxiety  that  no  mechanical  trick 
might  elude  him.  The  miller's  half-grown  son, 
whose  ear  for  any  fine  distinctions  in  sound  might  be 
presumed  to  have  been  destroyed  by  the  clamors  of 
the  mill,  sat  a  trifle  in  the  background,  and  sawed 
away  on  an  imaginary  violin  with  many  flourishes  and 
all  the  exaggerations  of  mimicry  ;  he  thus  furnished 
the  zest  of  burlesque  relished  by  the  devotees  of 
horse-play  and  simple  jests,  and  was  altogether  una 
ware  that  he  had  a  caricature  in  his  shadow  just  be 
hind  him,  and  was  doing  double  duty  in  making  both 
Leander  and  himself  ridiculous.  Sometimes  he 
paused  in  excess  of  interest  when  the  music  elicited 
an  amusement  more  to  his  mind  than  the  long- 
drawn,  pathetic  cadences  which  the  violinist  so  much 
affected.  For  in  sudden  changes  of  mood  and  in 
effective  contrast  the  tones  came  showering  forth  in 
keen,  quick  staccato,  every  one  as  round  and  distinct 
as  a  globule,  but  as  unindividualized  in  the  swift  ex 
uberance  of  the  whole  as  a  drop  in  a  summer's  rain; 
the  bow  was  but  a  glancing  line  of  light  in  its  rapidity, 
and  the  bounding  movement  of  the  theme  set  many 
a  foot  astir  marking  time.  At  last  one  young  fellow, 
an  artist  too  in  his  way,  laid  aside  his  pipe  and  came 
out  to  dance.  A  queer  pas  seul  it  might  have  been 
esteemed,  but  he  was  light  and  agile  and  not  un 
graceful,  and  he  danced  with  an  air  of  elation — al 
beit  with  a  grave  face — which  added  to  the  enjoy 
ment  of  the  spectator,  for  it  seemed  so  slight  an 
effort.  He  was  long-winded,  and  was  still  bounding 
about  in  the  double-shuffle  and  the  pigeon-wing,  his 
shadow  on  the  wall  nimbly  following  every  motion, 


284      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT    HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS 

when  the  violin's  cadence  quavered  off  in  a  discord 
ant  wail,  and  Leander,  the  bow  pointed  at  the  water 
fall,  exclaimed  :  "  Look  out !  Somebody's  thar  ! 
Out  thar  on  the  rocks !" 

It  was  upon  the  instant,  with  the  evident  in 
tention  of  a  surprise,  that  a  dozen  armed  men 
rushed  precipitately  into  the  place.  Nehemiah,  his 
head  awhirl,  hardly  distinguished  the  events  as  they 
were  confusedly  enacted  before  him.  There  were 
loud,  excited  calls,  unintelligible,  mouthing  back  in 
the  turbulent  echoes  of  the  place,  the  repeated  word 
"  Surrender!"  alone  conveying  meaning  to  his  mind. 
The  sharp,  succinct  note  of  a  pistol-shot  was  a  short 
answer.  Some  quick  hand  closed  the  door  of  the 
furnace  and  threw  the  place  into  protective  gloom. 
He  was  vaguely  aware  that  a  prolonged  struggle 
that  took  place  amongst  a  group  of  men  near  him 
was  the  effort  of  the  intruders  to  reopen  it.  All  un 
availing.  He  presently  saw  figures  drawing  back 
to  the  doorway  out  of  the  melee,  for  moonshiner  and 
raider  were  alike  indistinguishable,  and  he  became 
aware  that  both  parties  were  equally  desirous  to  gain 
the  outer  air.  Once  more  pistol-shots — outside  this 
time  —  then  a  tumult  of  frenzied  voices.  Struck  by 
a  pistol -ball,  Tarbetts  had  fallen  from  the  ledge 
under  the  weight  of  the  cataract  and  into  the  deep 
abysses  below.  The  raiders  were  swiftly  getting  to 
saddle  again.  Now  and  then  a  crack  mountain 
shot  drew  a  bead  upon  them  from  the  bushes ;  but 
mists  were  gathering,  the  moon  was  uncertain,  and 
the  flickering  beams  deflected  the  aim.  Two  or 
three  of  the  horses  lay  dead  on  the  river -bank, 
and  others  carried  double,  ridden  by  men  with  rid- 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS      285 

died  hats.  They  were  in  full  retreat,  for  the  catas 
trophe  on  the  ledge  of  the  cliff  struck  dismay  to 
their  hearts.  Had  the  man  been  shot,  according  to 
the  expectation  of  those  who  resist  arrest,  this  would 
be  merely  the  logical  sequence  of  events.  But  to  be 
hurled  from  a  crag  into  a  cataract  savored  of  atroc 
ity,  and  they  dreaded  the  reprisals  of  capture. 

It  was  soon  over.  The  whole  occurrence,  charged 
with  all  the  definitiveness  of  fate,  was  scant  ten  min 
utes  in  transition.  A  laggard  hoof-beat,  a  faint  echo 
amidst  the  silent  gathering  of  the  moonlit  mists,  and 
the  loud  plaint  of  Hoho-hebee  Falls  were  the  only 
sounds  that  caught  Nehemiah's  anxious  ear  when 
he  crept  out  from  behind  the  empty  barrels  and 
tremulously  took  his  way  along  the  solitary  ledges, 
ever  and  anon  looking  askance  at  his  shadow,  that 
more  than  once  startled  him  with  a  sense  of  unwel 
come  companionship.  The  mists,  ever  thickening, 
received  him  into  their  midst.  However  threatening 
to  the  retreat  of  the  raiders,  they  were  friendly  to 
him.  Once,  indeed,  they  parted,  showing  through 
the  gauzy  involutions  of  their  illumined  folds  the 
pale  moon  high  in  the  sky,  and  close  at  hand  a 
horse's  head  just  above  his  own,  with  wild,  dilated 
eyes  and  quivering  nostrils.  Its  effect  was  as  de 
tached  as  if  it  were  only  drawn  upon  a  canvas;  the 
mists  rolled  over  anew,  and  but  that  he  heard  the 
subdued  voice  of  the  rider  urging  the  animal  on, 
and  the  thud  of  the  hoofs  farther  away,  he  might 
have  thought  this  straggler  from  the  revenue  party 
some  wild  illusion  born  of  his  terrors. 

The  fate  of  Hilary  Tarbetts  remained  a  mystery. 
When  the  stream  was  dragged  for  his  body  it  was 


286     THE   MOONSHINERS   AT   HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 

deemed  strange  that  it  should  not  be  found,  since 
the  bowlders  that  lay  all  adown  the  rocky  gorge 
so  interrupted  the  sweep  of  the  current  that  so 
heavy  a  weight  seemed  likely  to  be  caught  amongst 
them.  Others  commented  on  the  strength  and 
great  momentum  of  the  flow,  and  for  this  reason  it 
was  thought  that  in  some  dark  underground  channel 
of  Hide-and-Seek  Creek  the  moonshiner  had  found 
his  sepulchre.  A  story  of  his  capture  was  circulat 
ed  after  a  time ;  it  was  supposed  that  he  dived  and 
swam  ashore  after  his  fall,  and  that  the  raiders 
overtook  him  on  their  retreat,  and  that  he  was  now 
immured,  a  Federal  prisoner.  The  still  and  all  the 
effects  of  the  brush-whiskey  trade  disappeared  as 
mysteriously,  and  doubtless  this  silent  flitting  gave 
rise  to  the  hopeful  rumor  that  Tarbetts  had  been 
seen  alive  and  well  since  that  fateful  night,  and 
that  in  some  farther  recesses  of  the  wilderness,  un 
discovered  by  the  law,  he  and  like  comrades  con 
tinue  their  chosen  vocation.  However  that  may 
be,  the  vicinity  of  Hoho-hebee  Falls,  always  a 
lonely  place,  is  now  even  a  deeper  solitude.  The 
beavers,  unmolested,  haunt  the  ledges;  along  their 
precipitous  ways  the  deer  come  down  to  drink  ;  on 
bright  days  the  rainbow  hovers  about  the  falls  ;  on 
bright  nights  they  glimmer  in  the  moon  ;  but  never 
again  have  they  glowed  with  the  shoaling  orange 
light  of  the  furnace,  intensifying  to  the  deep  tawny 
tints  of  its  hot  heart,  like  the  rich  glamours  of  some 
great  topaz. 

This  alien  glow  it  was  thought  had  betrayed  the 
place  to  the  raiders,  and  Nehemiah's  instrumentality 
was  never  discovered.  The  post-office  appointment 


THE   MOONSHINERS   AT    HOHO-HEBEE    FALLS      287 

was  bestowed  upon  his  rival  for  the  position,  and  it 
was  thought  somewhat  strange  that  he  should  en 
dure  the  defeat  with  such  exemplary  resignation. 
No  one  seemed  to  connect  his  candidacy  with  his 
bootless  search  for  his  nephew.  When  Leander 
chanced  to  be  mentioned,  however,  he  observed 
with  some  rancor  that  he  reckoned  it  was  just  as 
well  he  didn't  come  up  with  Lee-yander ;  there  was 
generally  mighty  little  good  in  a  runaway  boy,  and 
Lee-yancler  had  the  name  of  being  disobejent  an' 
turr'ble  bad. 

Leander  found  a  warm  welcome  at  home.  His 
violin  had  been  broken  in  the  melee,  and  the  miller, 
though  ardently  urged,  never  could  remember  the 
spot  where  he  had  hidden  the  book — such  havoc 
had  the  confusion  of  that  momentous  night  wrought 
in  his  mental  processes.  Therefore,  unhampered 
by  music  or  literature,  Leander  addressed  himself 
to  the  plough-handles,  and  together  that  season  he 
and  "  Neighbor  "  made  the  best  crop  of  their  lives. 

Laurelia  sighed  for  the  violin  and  Leander's 
music,  though,  as  she  always  made  haste  to  say, 
some  pious  people  misdoubted  whether  it  were  not 
a  sinful  pastime.  On  such  occasions  it  went  hard 
with  Leander  not  to  divulge  his  late  experiences 
and  the  connection  of  the  pious  Uncle  Nehemiah 
therewith.  But  he  always  remembered  in  time 
Laurelia's  disability  to  receive  confidences,  being  a 
woman,  and  consequently  unable  to  keep  a  secret, 
and  he  desisted. 

One  day,  however,  when  he  and  Ty  Sudley, 
ploughing  the  corn,  now  knee-high,  were  pausing  to 
rest  in  the  turn-row,  a  few  furrows  apart,  in  an  ebul- 


288      THE   MOONSHINERS   AT    HOHO-HEBEE   FALLS 

lition  of  filial  feeling  he  told  all  that  had  befallen 
him  in  his  absence.  Ty  Sudley,  divided  between 
wrath  toward  Nehemiah  and  quaking  anxiety  for 
the  dangers  that  Leander  had  been  constrained  to 
run — ex  post  facto  tremors,  but  none  the  less  acute 
— felt  moved  now  and  then  to  complacence  in  his 
prodigy. 

"  So  'twar  you-uns  ez  war  smart  enough  ter  slam 
the  furnace  door  an'  throw  the  whole  place  inter 
darkness  !  That  saved  them  moonshiners  and  raid 
ers  from  killin'  each  other.  It  saved  a  deal  o'  blood 
shed — ez  sure  ez  shootin'.  'Twar  mighty  smart  in 
ye.  But" — suddenly  bethinking  himself  of  sundry 
unfilial  gibes  at  Uncle  Nehemiah  and  the  facetious 
account  of  his  plight — "  Lee-yander,  ye  mustn't  be 
so  turr'ble  bad,  sonny ;  ye  mustn't  be  so  turr'ble 
bad." 

"  Naw,  ma'am,  Neighbor,  I  won't,"  Leander  pro 
tested. 

And  he  went  on  following  the  plough  down  the 
furrow  and  singing  loud  and  clear. 


THE   RIDDLE    OF   THE   ROCKS 


292  THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS 

knew  of  no  foreign  countries,  no  land  holier  than 
the  land  of  his  home.  There  was  no  incongruity 
to  his  mind  that  it  should  have  been  in  the  solemn 
silence  and  austere  solitude  of  the  "  bald,"  in  the 
magnificent  ascendency  of  the  Great  Smoky,  that 
the  law-giver  had  met  the  Lord  and  spoken  with 
Him.  Often  as  he  lay  at  length  on  the  strange 
barren  place,  veiled  with  the  clouds  that  frequented 
it,  a  sudden  sunburst  in  their  midst  would  suggest 
anew  what  supernal  splendors  had  once  been  here 
vouchsafed  to  the  faltering  eye  of  man.  The  illu 
sion  had  come  to  be  very  dear  to  him ;  in  this  insist 
ent  localization  of  his  faith  it  was  all  very  near. 
And  so  he  would  go  clown  to  the  slope  below,  among 
the  weird,  stunted  trees,  and  look  once  more  upon 
the  broken  tables,  and  ponder  upon  the  strange 
signs  written  by  time  thereon.  The  insistent  fall 
of  the  rain,  the  incisive  blasts  of  the  wind,  coming 
again  and  again,  though  the  centuries  went,  were 
registered  here  in  mystic  runes.  The  surface  had 
weathered  to  a  whitish -gray,  but  still  in  tiny  de 
pressions  its  pristine  dark  color  showed  in  rugose 
characters.  A  splintered  fissure  held  delicate  fucoid 
impressions  in  fine  script  full  of  meaning.  A  series 
of  worm-holes  traced  erratic  hieroglyphics  across  a 
scaling  corner;  all  the  varied  texts  were  illuminated 
by  quartzose  particles  glittering  in  the  sun,  and  here 
and  there  fine  green  grains  of  glauconite.  He  knew 
no  names  like  these,  and  naught  of  meteorological 
potency.  He  had  studied  no  other  rock.  His 
casual  notice  had  been  arrested  nowhere  by  similar 
signs.  Under  the  influence  of  his  ignorant  super 
stition,  his  cherished  illusion,  the  lonely  wilderness, 


THE  RIDDLE   OF   THE  ROCKS  293 

what  wonder  that,  as  he  pondered  upon  the  rocks, 
strange  mysteries  seemed  revealed  to  him  ?  He 
found  significance  in  these  cabalistic  scriptures — 
nay,  he  read  inspired  words !  With  the  ramrod  of 
his  gun  he  sought  to  follow  the  fine  tracings  of  the 
letters  writ  by  the  finger  of  the  Lord  on  the  stone 
tables  that  Moses  flung  down  from  the  mountain- 
top  in  his  wrath. 

With  a  devout  thankfulness  Purdee  realized  that  he 
owned  the  land  where  they  lay.  It  was  worth,  per 
haps,  a  few  cents  an  acre ;  it  was  utterly  untillable, 
almost  inaccessible,  and  his  gratulation  owed  its 
fervor  only  to  its  spiritual  values.  He  was  an  idle 
and  shiftless  fellow,  and  had  known  no  glow  of  ac 
quisition,  no  other  pride  of  possession.  He  herded 
cattle  much  of  the  time  in  the  summer,  and  he  hunted 
in  the  winter — wolves  ch'iefly,  their  hair  being  long 
and  finer  at  this  season,  and  the  smaller  furry  gen 
try  ;  for  he  dealt  in  peltry.  And  so,  despite  the 
vastness  of  the  mountain  wilds,  he  often  came  and 
knelt  beside  the  rocks  with  his  rifle  in  his  hand, 
and  sought  anew  to  decipher  the  mystic  legends. 
His  face,  bending  over  the  tables  of  the  Law  with 
the  earnest  research  of  a  student,  with  the  chastened 
subduement  of  devotion,  with  all  the  calm  sentiments 
of  reverie,  lacked  something  of  its  normal  aspect. 
When  a  sudden  stir  of  the  leaves  or  the  breaking  of 
a  twig  recalled  him  to  the  world,  and  he  would  lift 
his  head,  it  might  hardly  seem  the  same  face,  so 
heavy  was  the  lower  jaw,  so  insistent  and  coercive 
his  eye.  But  if  he  took  off  his  hat  to  place  therein 
his  cotton  bandana  handkerchief  or  (if  he  were  in 
luck  and  burdened,  with  game)  the  scalp  of  a  wild- 


294  THE   RIDDLE  OF  THE   ROCKS 

cat — valuable  for  the  bounty  offered  by  the  State — 
he  showed  a  broad,  massive  forehead  that  added 
the  complement  of  expression,  and  suggested  a 
doubt  if  it  were  ferocity  his  countenance  bespoke  or 
force.  His  long  black  hair  hung  to  his  shoulders, 
and  he  wore  a  tangled  black  beard  ;  his  deep-set 
dark  blue  eyes  were  kindled  with  the  fires  of  imag 
ination.  He  was  tall,  and  of  a  commanding  pres 
ence  but  for  his  stoop  and  his  slouch.  His  garments 
seemed  a  trifle  less  well  ordered  than  those  of  his 
class,  and  bore  here  and  there  the  traces  of  the 
blood  of  beasts ;  on  his  trousers  were  grass  stains 
deeply  grounded,  for  he  knelt  often  to  get  a  shot, 
and  in  meditation  beside  the  rocks.  He  spent  little 
time  otherwise  upon  his  knees,  and  perhaps  it  was 
some  intuition  of  this  fact  that  roused  the  wrath  of 
certain  brethren  of  the  carnp-meeting  when  he  sud 
denly  appeared  among  them,  arrogating  to  himself 
peculiar  spiritual  experiences,  proclaiming  that  his 
mind  had  been  opened  to  strange  lore,  repeating 
thrilling,  quickening  words  that  he  declared  he  had 
read  on  the  dead  rocks  whereon  were  graven  the 
commandments  of  the  Lord.  The  tumultuous  tide 
of  his  rude  eloquence,  his  wild  imagery,  his  ecstasy 
of  faith,  rolled  over  the  assembly  and  awoke  it 
anew  to  enthusiasms.  Much  that  he  said  was  ac 
cepted  by  the  more  intelligent  ministers  who  led 
the  meeting  as  figurative,  as  the  finer  fervors  of 
truth,  and  they  felt  the  responsive  glow  of  emotion 
and  quiver  of  sympathy.  He  intended  it  in  its  sim 
ple,  literal  significance.  And  to  the  more  local 
members  of  the  congregation  the  fact  was  patent. 
"  Sech  a  pack  o'  lies  hev  seldom  been  tole  in  the 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  ROCKS         295 

hearin'  o'  Almighty  Gawd,"  said  Job  Grinnell,  a  few 
days  after  the  breaking  up  of  camp.  He  was  re 
hearsing  the  proceedings  at  the  meeting  partly 
for  the  joy  of  hearing  himself  talk,  and  partly  at 
the  instance  of  his  wife,  who  had  been  prevented 
from  attending  by  the  inopportune  illness  of  one  of 
the  children.  "  Ez  I  loant  my  ear  ter  the  words  o' 
that  thar  brazen  buzzard  I  eyed  him  constant.  Fur 
I  looked  ter  see  the  jeclgmint  o'  the  Lord  descend 
upon  him  like  S'phira  an'  An'ias." 

"  Who  ?"  asked  his  wife,  pausing  in  her  task  of 
picking  up  chips.  He  had  spoken  of  them  so  fa 
miliarly  that  one  might  imagine  they  lived  close  by 
in  the  cove. 

"An'ias  an'  S'phira  —  them  in  the  Bible  ez  war 
streck  by  lightnin'  fur  lyin',''  he  explained. 

"  I  'member  her?  she  said.     "  S'phia,  I  calls  her." 

"  Waal,  A'gusta,  S'phira  do  me  jes  ez  well,"  he 
said,  with  the  momentary  sulkiness  of  one  corrected. 
"Thar  war  a  man  along,  though.  An'  'pears  ter  me 
thar  war  powerful  leetle  jestice  in  thar  takin'  off,  ef 
Roger  Purdee  be  'lowed  ter  stan'  up  thar  in  the  face 
o'  the  meetin'  an'  lie  so  ez  no  yearthly  critter  in 
the  worl'  could  b'lieve  him — 'ceptin'  Brother  Jacob 
Page,  ez  'peared  plumb  out'n  his  head  with  religion, 
an'  got  ter  shoutin'  when  this  Purdee  tuk  ter  tellin' 
the  law  he  read  on  them  rocks — Moses'  tables,  folks 
calls  'em — up  yander  in  the  mounting." 

He  nodded  upward  toward  the  great  looming 
range  above  them.  His  house  was  on  a  spur  of 
the  mountain,  overshadowed  by  it ;  shielded.  It 
was  to  him  the  Almoner  of  Fate.  One  by  one  it 
doled  out  the  days,  dawning  from  its  summit ;  and 


296  THE   RIDDLE  OF  THE   ROCKS 

thence,  too,  came  the  darkness  and  the  glooms  of 
night.  One  by  one  it  liberated  from  the  enmesh- 
ments  of  its  tangled  wooded  heights  the  constella 
tions  to  gladden  the  eye  and  lure  the  fancy.  Its 
largess  of  silver  torrents  flung  down  its  slopes  made 
fertile  the  little  fields,  and  bestowed  a  lilting  song 
on  the  silence,  and  took  a  turn  at  the  mill-wheel, 
and  did  not  disdain  the  thirst  of  the  humble  cattle. 
It  gave  pasturage  in  summer,  and  shelter  from  the 
winds  of  the  winter.  It  was  the  assertive  feature 
of  his  life  ;  he  could  hardly  have  imagined  existence 
without  "the  mounting." 

"  Tole  what  he  read  on  them  rocks — yes,  sir,  ez 
glib  ez  swallerin'  a  persimmon.  'Twarn't  the  reg'lar 
ten  comman'ments — some  cur'ous  new  texts — jes 
a-rollin'  'em  out  ez  sanctified  ez  ef  he  hed  been 
called  ter  preach  the  gospel !  An'  thar  war  Brother 
Eden  Bates  a-answerin'  'Amen  '  ter  every  one.  An' 
Brother  Jacob  Page  :  '  Glory,  brother  !  Ye  hev  re 
ceived  the  outpourin'  of  the  Sperit !  Shake  hands, 
brother !'  An'  sech  ez  that.  Ter  hev  hearn  the 
commotion  they  raised  about  that  thar  derned  lyin' 
sinner  ye'd  hev  'lowed  the  meetin'  war  held  ter 
glorify  him  stiddier  the  Lord." 

Job  Grinnell  himself  was  a  most  notorious  Chris 
tian.  Renown,  however,  with  him  could  never  be 
a  superfluity,  or  even  a  sufficiency,  and  he  grudged 
the  fame  that  these  strange  spiritual  utterances 
were  acquiring.  He  had  long  enjoyed  the  distinc 
tion  of  being  considered  a  miraculous  convert;  his 
rescue  from  the  wily  enticements  of  Satan  had  been 
celebrated  with  much  shaking  and  clapping  of 
hands,  and  cries  of  "  Glory,"  and  muscular  ecstasy. 


THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS  297 

His  religious  experiences  thenceforth,  his  vacilla 
tions  of  hope  and  despair,  had  been  often  elabo 
rated  amongst  the  brethren.  But  his  was  a  con 
ventional  soul ;  its  expression  was  in  the  formulae 
and  platitudes  of  the  camp-meeting.  They  sank 
into  oblivion  in  the  excitement  attendant  upon 
Purdee's  wild  utterances  from  the  mystic  script  of 
the  rocks. 

As  Grinnell  talked,  he  often  paused  in  his  work  to 
imitate  the  gesticulatory  enthusiasms  of  the  saints  at 
the  camp-meeting.  He  was  a  thickset  fellow  of  only 
medium  height,  and  was  called,  somewhat  invidious 
ly,  "  a  chunky  man."  His  face  was  broad,  prosaic, 
good-natured,  incapable  of  any  fine  gradations  of 
expression.  It  indicated  an  elementary  rage  or  a 
sluggish  placidity.  He  had  a  ragged  beard  of  a  red 
dish  hue,  and  hair  a  shade  lighter.  He  wore  blue 
jeans  trousers  and  an  unbleached  cotton  shirt,  and 
the  whole  system  depended  on  one  suspender.  He 
was  engaged  in  skimming  a  great  kettle  of*  boiling 
sorghum  with  a  perforated  gourd,  which  caught  the 
scum  and  strained  the  liquor.  The  process  was 
primitive ,  instead  of  the  usual  sorghum  boiler  and 
furnace,  the  kettle  was  propped  upon  stones  laid 
together  so  as  to  concentrate  the  heat  of  the  fire. 
His  wife  was  continually  feeding  the  flames  with 
chips  which  she  brought  in  her  apron  from  the 
wood-pile.  Her  countenance  was  half  hidden  in 
her  faded  pink  sun-bonnet,  which,  however,  did  not 
obscure  an  expression  responsive  to  that  on  the 
man's  face.  She  did  not  grudge  Purdee  the  salva 
tion  he  had  found ;  she  only  grudged  him  the  pres 
tige  he  had  derived  from  its  unique  method. 


298  THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS 

"Why  can't  the  critter  elude  Satan  with  less 
n'ise  ?"  she  asked,  acrimoniously. 

"  Edzackly,"  her  husband  chimed  in. 

Now  and  then  both  turned  a  supervisory  glance 
at  the  sorghum  mill  down  the  slope  at  some  little 
distance,  and  close  to  the  river.  It  had  been  a 
long  day  for  the  old  white  mare,  still  trudging 
round  and  round  the  mill ;  perhaps  a  long  day  as 
well  for  the  two  half-grown  boys,  one  of  whom  fed 
the  machine,  thrusting  into  it  a  stalk  at  a  time, 
while  the  other  brought  in  his  arms  fresh  supplies 
from  the  great  pile  of  sorghum  cane  hard  by. 

All  the  door-yard  of  the  little  log  cabin  was 
bedaubed  with  the  scum  of  the  sorghum  which  Job 
Grinnell  flung  from  his  perforated  gourd  upon  the 
ground.  The  idle  dogs — and  there  were  many — 
would  find,  when  at  last  disposed  to  move,  a  clog 
upon  their  nimble  feet.  They  often  sat  down  with 
a  wrinkling  of  brows  and  a  puzzled  expression  of 
muzzle  *to  investigate  their  gelatinous  paws  with 
their  tongues,  not  without  certain  indications  of 
pleasure,  for  the  sorghum  was  very  sweet ;  some  of 
them,  that  had  acquired  the  taste  for  it  from  imi 
tating  the  children,  openly  begged. 

One,  a  gaunt  hound,  hardly  seemed  so  idle  ;  he 
had  a  purpose  in  life,  if  it  might  not  be  called  a 
profession.  He  lay  at  length,  his  paws  stretched 
out  before  him,  his  head  upon  them  ;  his  big  brown 
eyes  were  closed  only  at  intervals ;  ever  and  again 
they  opened  watchfully  at  the  movement  of  a 
small  child,  ten  months  old,  perhaps,  dressed  in 
pink  calico,  who  sat  in  the  shadow  formed  by  the 
protruding  clay  and  stick  chimney,  and  played  by 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  ROCKS         299 

bouncing  up  and  down  and  waving  her  fat;  hands, 
which  seemed  a  perpetual  joy  and  delight  of  posses 
sion  to  her.  Take  her  altogether,  she  was  a  person 
of  prepossessing  appearance,  despite  her  frank  dis 
play  of  toothless  gums,  and  around  her  wide  mouth 
the  unseemly  traces  of  sorghum.  She  had  the 
plumpest  graces  of  dimples  in  every  direction,  big 
blue  eyes  with  long  lashes,  the  whitest  possible 
skin,  and  an  extraordinary  pair  of  pink  feet,  which 
she  rubbed  together  in  moments  of  joy  as  if  she 
had  mistaken  them  for  her  hands.  Although  she 
sputtered  a  good  deal,  she  had  a  charming,  un 
affected  laugh,  with  the  giggle  attachment  natural 
to  the  young  of  her  sex. 

Suddenly  there  sounded  an  echo  of  it,  as  it  were 
— a  shrill,  nervous  little  whinny ;  the  boys  whirled 
round  to  see  whence  it  came.  The  persistent  rasp 
ing  noise  of  the  sorghum  mill  and  the  bubbling  of 
the  caldron  had  prevented  them  from  hearing  an 
approach.  There,  quite  close  at  hand,  peering 
through  the  rails  of  the  fence,  was  a  little  girl  of 
seven  or  eight  years  of  age. 

"  I  wanter  kem  in  an'  see  you-uns's  baby  !"  she 
exclaimed,  in  a  high,  shrill  voice.  "  I  want  to  pat 
it  on  the  head.". 

She  was  a  forlorn  little  specimen,  very  thin  and 
sharp -featured.  Her  homespun  dress  was  short 
enough  to  show  how  fragile  were  the  long  lean  legs 
that  supported  her.  The  curtain  of  her  sun-bonnet, 
which  was  evidently  made  for  a  much  larger  person, 
hung  down  nearly  to  the  hem  of  her  skirt;  as  she 
turned  and  glanced  anxiously  down  the  road,  evi 
dently  suspecting  a  pursuer,  she  looked  like  an 


300  THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS 

erratic  sun-bonnet  out  for  a  stroll  on  a  pair  of 
borrowed  legs. 

She  turned  again  suddenly  and  applied  her  thin, 
freckled  little  face  to  the  crack  between  the  rails. 
She  smiled  upon  the  baby,  who  smiled  in  response, 
and  gave  a  little  bounce  that  might  be  accounted 
a  courtesy.  The  younger  of  the  boys  left  the  cane 
pile  and  ran  up  to  his  brother  at  the  mill,  which 
was  close  to  the  fence.  "  Don't  ye  let  her  do  it," 
he  said,  venomously.  "That  thar  gal  is  one  of  the 
Purdee  fambly.  I  know  her.  Don't  let  her  in." 
And  he  ran  back  to  the  cane. 

Grinnell  had  seemed  pleased  by  this  homage  at 
the  shrine  of  the  family  idol ;  but  at  the  very  men 
tion  of  the  "  Purdee  fambly  "  his  face  hardened,  an 
angry  light  sprang  into  his  eyes,  and  his  gesture  in 
skimming  with  the  perforated  gourd  the  scum  from 
the  boiling  sorghum  was  as  energetic  as  if  with  the 
action  he  were  dashing  the  "  Purdee  fambly  "  from 
off  the  face  of  the  earth.  It  was  an  ancient  feud  ; 
his  grandfather  and  some  contemporary  Purdee 
had  fallen  out  about  the  ownership  of  certain  va 
grant  cattle  ;  there  had  been  blows  and  bloodshed  , 
other  members  of  the  connection  had  been  dragged 
into  the  controversy ;  summary  reprisals  were  fol 
lowed  by  counter-reprisals.  Barns  were  mysteri 
ously  fired,  hen-roosts  robbed,  horses  unaccount 
ably  lamed,  sheep  feloniously  sheared  by  unknown 
parties ;  the  feeling  widened  and  deepened,  and 
had  been  handed  down  to  the  present  generation 
with  now  and  then  a  fresh  provocation,  on  the  part 
of  one  or  the  other,  to  renew  and  continue  the  rank 
ling  old  grudges. 


THE   RIDDLE   OF  THE   ROCKS  30! 

And  here  stood  the  hereditary  enemy,  wanting  to 
pat  their  baby  on  the  head. 

"  Naw,  sir,  ye  won't !"  exclaimed  the  boy  at  the 
mill,  greatly  incensed  at  the  boldness  of  this  propo 
sition,  glaring  at  the  lean,  tender,  wistful  little  face 
between  the  rails  of  the  fence. 

But  the  baby,  who  had  not  sense  enough  to  know 
anything  about  hereditary  enemies,  bounced  and 
laughed  and  gurgled  and  sputtered  with  glee,  and 
waved  her  hands,  and  had  never  looked  fatter  or 
more  beguiling. 

"  I  jes  wanter  pat  it  wunst,"  sighed  the  hereditary 
enemy,  with  a  lithe  writhing  of  her  thin  little  anato 
my  in  the  anguish  of  denial — "jes  wunst  f 

"Naw,  sir!" exclaimed  the  youthful  Grinnell,more 
insistently  than  before.  He  did  not  continue,  for 
suddenly  there  came  running  down  the  road  a  boy 
of  his  own  size,  out  of  breath,  and  red  and  angry — 
the  pursuer,  evidently,  that  the  hereditary  enemy 
had  feared,  for  she  crouched  up  against  the  fence 
with  a  whimper. 

"  Kem  along  away  from  thar,  ye  miser'ble  little 
stack  o'  bones !"  he  cried,  seizing  his  sister  by  one 
hand  and  giving  her  a  jerk — "  a-foolin'  round  them 
Grinnells'  fence  an'  a-hankerin'  arter  thar  old  baby  !" 

He  felt  that  the  pride  of  the  Purdee  family  was 
involved  in  this  admission  of  envy. 

"  I  jes  wanter  pat  it  on  the  head  wunst"  she 
sighed. 

"  Waal,  ye  won't  now,"  said  the  Grinnell  boys  in 
chorus. 

The  Purdee  grasp  was  gentler  on  the  little  girl's 
arm.  This  was  clue  not  to  fraternal  feeling  so  much 


302  THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS 

as  to  loyalty  to  the  clan  ;  "  stack  o'  bones  "  though 
she  was,  they  were  Purdee  bones. 

"Kern  along,"  Ab  Purdee  exhorted  her.  "A 
baby  ain't  nuthin'  extry,  nohow" — he  glanced  scoff- 
ingly  at  the  infantile  Grinnell.  "The  mountings  air 
fairly  a-roamin1  with  'em." 

"  We-uns  'ain't  got  none  at  our  house,"  whined 
the  sun-bonnet,  droopingly,  moving  off  slowly  on  its 
legs,  which,  indeed,  seemed  borrowed,  so  unsteady 
and  loath  to  go  they  were. 

The  Grinnell  boys  laughed  aloud,  jeeringly  and 
ostentatiously,  and  the  Purdee  blood  was  moved  to 
retort :  "We-uns  don't  want  none  sech  ez  that.  Nary 
tooth  in  her  head  !" 

And  indeed  the  widely  stretched  babbling  lips 
displayed  a  vast  vacuity  of  gum. 

Job  Grinnell,  who  had  listened  with  an  attentive 
ear  to  the  talk  of  the  children,  had  nevertheless 
continued  his  constant  skimming  of  the  scum.  Now 
he  rose  from  his  bent  posture,  tossed  the  scum  upon 
the  ground,  and  with  the  perforated  gourd  in  his 
hand  turned  and  looked  at  his  wife.  Augusta  had 
dropped  her  apron  and  chips,  and  stood  with  folded 
arms  across  her  breast,  her  face  wearing  an  expres 
sion  of  exasperated  expectancy. 

The  Grinnell  boys  were  humbled  and  abashed. 
The  wicked  scion  of  the  Purdee  house,  joying  to 
note  how. true  his  shaft  had  sped,  was  again  fitting 
his  bow. 

"  An'  ez  bald-headed  ez  the  mounting." 

The  baby  had  a  big  precedent,  but  although  no 
peculiar  shame  attaches  to  the  bare  pinnacle  of  the 
summit,  she — despite  the  difference  in  size  and  age 


THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS  303 

— was  expected  to  show  up  more  fully  furnished,  and 
in  keeping  with  the  rule  of  humanity  and  the  gentil 
ities  of  life. 

No  teeth,  no  hair,  no  sign  of  any:  the  fact  that 
she  was  so  backward  was  a  sore  point  with  all  the 
family.  Job  Grinnell  suddenly  dropped  the  perfo 
rated  gourd,  and  started  down  toward  the  fence. 
The  acrimony  of  the  old  feud  was  as  a  trait  bred  in 
the  bone.  Such  hatred  as  was  inherent  in  him  was 
evoked  by  his  religious  jealousies,  and  the  pious 
sense  that  he  was  following  the  traditions  of  his 
elders  and  upholding  the  family  honor  blended  in 
gentlest  satisfaction  with  his  personal  animosity 
toward  Roger  Purdee  as  he  noticed  the  boy  edging 
off  from  the  fence  to  a  safe  distance.  He  eyed  him 
derisively  for  a  moment. 

"Kin  ye  kerry  a  message  straight?"  The  boy 
looked  up  with  an  expression  of  sullen  acquiescence, 
but  said  nothing.  "Ax  yer  dad — an' ye  kin  tell  him 
the  word  kems  from  me — whether  he  hev  read  sech 
ez  this  on  the  lawgiver's  stone  tables  yander  in  the 
mounting:  'An'  ye  shall  claim  sech  ez  be  yourn,  an' 
yer  neighbor's  belongings  shall  ye  in  no  wise  boast 
fully  medjure  fur  yourn,  nor  look  upon  it  fur  covet- 
iousness,  nor  yit  git  up  a  big  name  in  the  kentry  fur 
ownin'  sech  ez  be  another's.'  " 

He  laughed  silently — a  twinkling,  wrinkling  dem 
onstration  over  all  his  broad  face — a  laugh  that  was 
younger  than  the  man,  and  would  have  befitted  a 
square-faced  boy. 

The  youthful  Purdee,  expectant  of  a  cuffing,  stood 
his  ground  more  doubtfully  still  under  the  insidious 
thrusts  of  this  strange  weapon,  sarcasm.  He  knew 


304  THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE   ROCKS 

that  they  were  intended  to  hurt ;  he  was  wounded 
primarily  in  the  intention,  but  the  exact  lesion  he 
could  not  locate.  He  could  meet  a  threat  with  a 
bold  face,  and  return  a  blow  with  the  best.  But  he 
was  mortified  in  this  failure  of  understanding,  and 
perplexity  cowed  him  as  contention  could  not.  He 
hung  his  head  with  its  sullen  questioning  eyes,  and 
he  found  great  solace  in  a  jagged  bit  of  cloth  on  the 
torn  bosom  of  his  shirt,  which  he  could  turn  in  his 
embarrassed  fingers. 

"Whar  be  yer  dad?"  Grinnell  asked. 

"  Up  yander  in  the  mounting,"  replied  the  sub 
dued  Purdee. 

"  A-readin'  of  mighty  s'prisin'  matter  writ  on  the 
rocks  o'  the  yearth !"  exclaimed  Grinnell,  with  a 
laugh.  "Waal,  jes  keep  that  sayin'  o'  mine  in  yer 
head,  an'  tell  him  when  he  kerns  home.  An1  look 
a-hyar,  ef  enny  mo'  o'  his  stray  shoats  kem  about 
hyar,  I'll  snip  thar  ears  an'  gin  'em  my  mark." 

The  youth  of  the  Purdee  clan  meditated  on  this 
for  a  moment.  He  could  not  remember  that  they 
had  missed  any  shoats.  Then  the  full  meaning  of 
the  phrase  dawned  upon  him — it  was  he  and  the 
wiry  little  sister  thus  demeaned  with  a  porcine  ap 
pellation,  and  whose  ears  were  threatened.  He 
looked  up  at  the  fence,  the  little  low  house,  the 
barn  close  by,  the  sorghum  mill,  the  drying  leaves 
of  tobacco  on  the  scaffold,  the  saltatory  baby;  his 
eyes  rilled  with  helpless  tears,  that  could  not  con 
ceal  the  burning  hatred  he  was  born  to  bear  them 
all.  He  was  hot  and  cold  by  turns  ;  he  stood  star 
ing,  silent  and  defiant,  motionless,  sullen.  He 
heard  the  melodic  measure  of  the  river,  with  its 


THE   RIDDLE    OF   THE    ROCKS  305 

crystalline,  keen  vibrations  against  the  rocks ;  the 
munching  teeth  of  the  old  mare — allowed  to  come 
to  a  stand-still  that  the  noise  of  the  sorghum  mill 
might  not  impinge  upon  the  privileges  of  the  quar 
rel  ;  and  the  high,  ecstatic  whinny  of  the  little  sister 
waiting  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  river,  having 
crossed  the  foot-bridge.  There  the  Grinnell  baby 
had  chanced  to  spy  her,  and  had  bounced  and 
grinned  and  sputtered  affably.  It  was  she  who 
had  made  all  the  trouble  yearning  after  the  Grin 
nell  baby. 

He  would  not  stay,  however,  to  be  ignominious- 
ly  beaten,  for  Grinnell  had  turned  away,  and  was 
looking  about  the  ground  as  if  in  search  of  a  thick 
stick.  He  accounted  himself  no  craven,  thus  nu 
merically  at  a  disadvantage,  to  turn  shortly  about, 
take  his  way  down  the  rocky  slope,  cross  the  foot 
bridge,  jerk  the  little  girl  by  one  hand  and  lead  her 
whimpering  off,  while  the  round-eyed  Grinnell  baby 
stared  gravely  after  her  with  inconceivable  emo 
tions.  These  presently  resulted  in  rendering  her 
cross  ;  she  whined  a  little  and  rubbed  her  eyes,  and, 
smarting  from  her  own  ill-treatment  of  them,  gave 
a  sharp  yelp  of  dismay.  The  old  dog  arose  and 
went  and  sat  close  by  her,  eying  her  solemnly  and 
wagging  his  tail,  as  if  begging  her  to  observe  how 
content  he  was.  His  dignity  was  somewhat  im 
paired  by  sudden  abrupt  snaps  at  flies,  which 
caused  her  to- wink,  stare,  and  be  silent  in  astonish 
ment. 

"Waal,  Job  Grinnell,"  exclaimed  Augusta,  as  her 
husband  came  back  and  took  the  perforated  gourd 
from  her  hand  —  for  she  had  been  skimming  the 


306  THE  RIDDLE   OF  THE  ROCKS 

sorghum  in  his  absence  — "  ye  air  the  longest- 
tongued  man,  ter  be  so  short-legged,  I  ever  see  !" 

He  looked  a  trifle  discomfited.  He  had  deported 
himself  with  unwonted  decision,  conscious  that  Au 
gusta  was  looking  on,  and  in  truth  somewhat  sup 
ported  by  the  expectation  of  her  approval. 

"  What  ails  ye  ter  say  words  ye  can't  abide  by — 
ye  'low  ye  'pear  so  graceful  on  the  back  track  ?"  she 
asked. 

He  bent  over  the  sorghum,  silently  skimming. 
His  composure  was  somewhat  ruffled,  and  in  throw 
ing  away  the  scum  his  gesture  was  of  negligent  and 
discursive  aim  ;  the  boiling  fluid  bespattered  the  foot 
of  one  of  the  omnipresent  dogs,  whose  shrieks  rent 
the  sky  and  whose  activity  on  three  legs  amazed 
the  earth.  He  ran  yelping  to  Mrs.  Grinnell,  nearly 
overturning  her  in  his  turbulent  demand  for  sym 
pathy  ;  then  scampered  across  to  the  boys,  who 
readily  enough  stopped  their  work  to  examine  the 
wounded  member  and  condole  with  its  wheezing 
proprietor. 

"What  ye  mean,  A'gusta?"  Grinnell  said  at 
length.  "  Kase  I  'lowed  I'd  cut  thar  ears  ?  I  ain't 
foolin'.  Kem  meddlin'  about  remarkin'  on  our 
chill'n  agin,  I'll  show  'em." 

Augusta  looked  at  him  in  exasperation.  "  I  ain't 
keerin'  ef  all  the  Purdees  war  deef,"  she  remarked, 
inhumanly,  "  but  what  war  them  words  ye  sent  fur  a 
message  ter  Purdee? — 'bout  pridin'  on  what  ain't 
theirn." 

Grinnell  in  his  turn  looked  at  her — but  dubiously, 
However  much  a  man  is  under  the  domination  of  his 
wife,  he  is  seldom  wholly  frank.  It  is  in  this  wise 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE   ROCKS  307 

that  his  individuality  is  preserved  to  him.  "  I  war 
jes  wantin'  ter  know  ef  them  words  war  on  the 
rocks,"  he  said  with  a  disingenuousness  worthy  of  a 
higher  culture. 

She  received  this  with  distrust.  "  I  kin  tell  ye 
now — they  ain't,"  she  said,  discriminatingly;  "Pur- 
dee's  words  don't  sound  like  them." 

"Waal,  now,  what's  the  differ?"  he  demanded, 
with  an  indignation  natural  enough  to  aspiring  hu 
manity  detecting  a  slur  upon  one's  literary  style. 

"  Waal — "  she  paused  as  she  knelt  down  to  feed 
the  fire,  holding  the  fragrant  chips  in  her  hand ;  the 
flame  flickered  out  and  lighted  up  her  reflective  eyes 
while  she  endeavored  to  express  the  distinction  she 
felt :  "  Purdee's  words  don't  sound  ter  me  like  the 
words  of  a  man  sech  ez  men  be." 

Grinnell  wrinkled  his  brows,  trying  to  follow  her 
here. 

"They  sound  ter  me  like  the  words  spoke  in  a 
dream — the  pernouncings  of  a  vision."  Mrs.  Grin 
nell  fancied  that  she  too  had  a  gift  of  Biblical  phrase 
ology.  "  They  sound  ter  me  like  things  I  hearn 
whenst  I  war  a-hungered  arter  righteousness  an' 
seekin'  religion,  an'  bided  alone  in  the  wilderness 
a-waitin'  o'  the  Sperit." 

"'Gusta!"  suddenly  exclaimed  her  husband,  with 
the  cadence  of  amazed  conviction,  "  ye  b'lieve  the  lie 
o'  that  critter,  an'  that  he  reads  the  words  o'  the 
Lord  on  the  rock !" 

She  looked  up  a  little  startled.  She  had  been  un 
conscious  of  the  circuitous  approaches  of  credence, 
and  shared  his  astonishment  in  the  conclusion. 

"  Waal,  sir  !"  he  said,  more  hurt  and  cast  down 


308  THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS 

than  one  would  have  deemed  possible.  "  I'm  willin' 
ter  hev  it  so.  I'm  jes  nuthin'  but  a  sinner  an1  a  fool, 
ripenin'  fur  damnation,  an'  he  air  a  saint  o'  the 
yearth  !" 

Now  such  sayings  as  this  were  frequent  upon  Job 
Grinnell's  tongue.  He  did  not  believe  them  ;  their 
utility  was  in  their  challenge  to  contradiction.  Thus 
they  often  promoted  an  increased  cordiality  of  the 
domestic  relations  and  an  accession  of  self-esteem. 

Augusta,  however,  was  tired  ;  the  boiling  sorghum 
and  the  September  sun  were  debilitating  in  their 
effects.  There  was  something  in  the  scene  with  the 
youthful  Purdee  that  grated  upon  her  half-developed 
sensibilities.  The  baby  was  whimpering  outright, 
and  the  cow  was  lowing  at  the  bars.  She  gave  her 
irritation  the  luxury  of  withholding  the  salve  to  Grin 
nell's  wounded  vanity.  She  said  nothing.  The 
tribute  to  Purdee  went  for  what  it  was  worth,  and  he 
was  forced  to  swallow  the  humble-pie  he  had  taken 
into  his  mouth,  albeit  it  stuck  in  his  throat. 

A  shadow  seemed  to  have  fallen  into  the  moral 
atmosphere  as  the  gentle  dusk  came  early  on.  One 
had  a  sense  as  if  bereft,  remembering  that  so  short 
a  time  ago  at  this  hour  the  sun  was  still  high,  and 
that  the  full-pulsed  summer  day  throbbed  to  a  cli 
max  of  color  and  bloom  and  redundant  life.  Now, 
the  scent  of  harvests  was  on  the  air ;  in  the  stubble 
of  the  sorghum  patch  she  saw  a  quail's  brood  more 
than  half-grown,  now  afoot,  and  again  taking  to 
wing  with  a  loud  whirring  sound.  The  perfume  of 
ripening  muscadines  came  from  the  bank  of  the 
river.  The  papaws  hung  globular  among  the  leaves 
of  the  bushes,  and  the  persimmons  were  reddening. 


THE   RIDDLE  OF  THE   ROCKS  309 

The  vermilion  sun  was  low  in  the  sky  above  the 
purpling  mountains  ;  the  stream  had  changed  from  a 
crystalline  brown  to  red,  to  gold,  and  now  it  was  be 
ginning  to  be  purple  and  silver.  And  this  reminded 
her  that  the  full-moon  was  up,  and  she  turned  to  look 
at  it  —  so  pearly  and  luminous  above  the  jagged 
ridge-pole  of  the  dark  little  house  on  the  rise.  The 
sky  about  it  was  blue,  refining  into  an  exquisitely 
delicate  and  ethereal  neutrality  near  the  horizon. 
The  baby  had  fallen  asleep,  with  its  bald  head  on  the 
old  dog's  shoulder. 

After  the  supper  was  over,  the  sorghum  fire  still 
burned  beneath  the  great  kettle,  for  the  syrup  was 
not  yet  made,  and  sorghum-boiling  is  an  industry 
that  cannot  be  intermitted.  The  fire  in  the  midst  of 
the  gentle  shadow  and  sheen  of  the  night  had  a  cer 
tain  profane,  discordant  effect.  Pete's  ill-defined 
figure  slouching  over  it  while  he  skimmed  the  syrup 
was  grimly  suggestive  of  the  distillations  of  strange 
elixirs  and  unhallowed  liquors,  and  his  simple  face, 
lighted  by  a  sudden  darting  red  flame,  had  unrecog 
nizable  significance  and  was  of  sinister  intent.  For 
Pete  was  detailed  to  attend  to  the  boiling;  the  grind 
ing  was  done,  and  the  old  white  mare  stood  still  in 
the  midst  of  the  sorghum  stubble  and  the  moon 
light,  as  motionless  and  white  as  if  she  were  carved 
in  marble.  Job  Grinnell  sat  and  smoked  on  the 
porch. 

Presently  he  got  up  suddenly,  knocked  the  ashes 
out  of  his  pipe,  and  looked  at  it  carefully  before  he 
stuck  it  into  his  pocket.  He  went,  without  a  word, 
down  the  rocky  slope,  past  the  old  drowsing  mare, 
and  across  the  foot-bridge.  Two  or  three  of  the 


310  THE   RIDDLE  OF  THE   ROCKS 

dogs,  watching  him  as  he  reappeared  on  the  opposite 
bank,  affected  a  mistake  in  identity.  They  growled, 
then  barked  outright,  and  at  last  ran  down  and 
climbed  the  fence  and  bounded  about  it,  baying  the 
vista  where  he  had  vanished,  until  the  sleepy  old 
mare  turned  her  head  and  gazed  in  mild  surprise  at 
them. 

Augusta  sat  alone  on  the  step  of  ihe  porch. 

She  had  various  regrets  in  her  mind,  incipient 
even  before  he  had  quite  gone,  and  now  defining 
themselves  momently  with  added  poignancy.  A 
woman  who,  in  her  retirement  at  home,  charges  her 
self  with  the  control  of  a  man's  conduct  abroad,  is 
never  likely  to  be  devoid  of  speculation  upon  proba 
ble  disasters  to  ensue  upon  any  abatement  of  the 
activities  of  her  discretion.  She  was  sorry  that  she 
had  allowed  so  trifling  a  matter  to  mar  the  serenity 
of  the  family;  her  conscience  upbraided  her  that 
she  had  not  besought  him  to  avoid  the  blacksmith's 
shop,  where  certain  men  of  the  neighborhood  were 
wont  to  congregate  and  drink  deep  into  the  night. 
Above  all,  her  mind  went  back  to  the  enigmatical 
message,  and  she  wondered  that  she  could  have 
been  so  forgetful  as  to  fail  to  urge  him  to  forbear 
angering  Purdee,  for  this  would  have  a  cumulative 
effect  upon  all  the  rancors  of  the  old  quarrels,  and 
inaugurate  perhaps  a  new  series  of  reprisals. 

"I  ain't  afeard  o'  no  Purdee  ez  ever  stepped," 
she  said  to  herself,  defining  her  position.  k<  But  I'm 
fur  peace.  An'  ef  the  Purdees  will  leave  we-uns  be, 
I  ain't  a-goin'  ter  meddle  along  o'  them." 

She  remembered  an  old  barn-burning,  in  the  days 
when  she  and  her  husband  were  newly  married,  at 


THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS  3!  I 

his  father's  house.  She  looked  up  at  the  barn 
hard  by,  on  a  line  with  the  dwelling,  with  that  ten 
derness  which  one  feels  for  a  thing,  not  because 
of  its  value,  but  for  the  sake  of  possession,  for  the 
kinship  with  the  objects  that  belong  to  the  home.  A 
cat  was  sitting  high  in  a  crevice  in  the  logs  where 
the  daubing  had  fallen  out  ;  the  moon  glittered  in 
its  great  yellow  eyes.  A  frog  was  leaping  along  the 
open  space  about  the  rude  step  at  Augusta's  feet. 
A  clump  of  mullein  leaves,  silvered  by  the  light, 
spangled  by  the  dew,  hid  him  presently.  What  an 
elusive  glistening  gauze  hung  over  the  valley  far  be 
low,  where  the  sense  of  distance  was  limited  by  the 
sense  of  sight ! — for  it  was  here  only  that  the  night, 
though  so  brilliant,  must  attest  the  incomparable  lu 
cidity  of  daylight.  She  could  not  even  distinguish, 
amidst  those  soft  sheens  of  the  moon  and  the  dew, 
the  Lombardy  poplar  that  grew  above  the  door  of 
old  Squire  Grove's  house  down  in  the  cove  ;  in  the 
daytime  it  was  visible  like  a  tiny  finger  pointing  up 
ward.  How  drowsy  was  the  sound  of  the  katydid, 
now  loudening,  now  falling,  now  fainting  away ! 
And  the  tree-toad  shrilled  in  the  dog-wood  tree. 
The  frogs,  too,  by  the  river  in  iterative  fugue  sent 
forth  a  song  as  suggestive  of  the  margins  as  the 
scent  of  the  fern,  and  the  mint,  and  the  fragrant 
weeds. 

A  convulsive  start !  She  did  not  know  that  she 
slept  until  she  was  again  awake.  The  moon  had 
travelled  many  a  mile  along  the  highways  of  the 
skies.  It  hung  over  the  purple  mountains,  over 
the  farthest  valley.  The  cicada  had  grown  dumb. 
The  stars  were  few  and  faint.  The  air  was  chill. 


312  THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS 

She  started  to  her  feet;  her  garments  were  heavy 
with  dew.  The  fire  beneath  the  sorghum  kettle 
had  died  to  a  coal,  flaring  or  fading  as  the  faint 
fluctuations  of  the  wind  might  will.  Near  it  Pete 
slumbered  where  he  too  had  sat  down  to  rest. 
And  Job — Job  had  never  returned. 

He  had  found  it  a  lightsome  enough  scene  at 
the  blacksmith's  shop,  where  it  was  understood 
that  the  neighboring  politicians  collogued  at  times, 
or  brethren  in  the  church  discussed  matters  of 
discipline  or  more  spiritual  affairs.  In  which  of 
these  interests  a  certain  corpulent  jug  was  most 
active  it  would  be  difficult  perhaps  to  accurately 
judge.  The  great  barn-like  doors  were  flung  wide 
open,  and  there  was  a  group  of  men  half  within  the 
shelter  and  half  without ;  the  shoeing-stool,  a  bro 
ken  plough,  an  empty  keg,  a  log,  and  a  rickety  chair 
sufficed  to  seat  the  company.  The  moonlight  fall 
ing  into  the  door  showed  the  great  slouching,  dark 
ling  figures,  the  anvil,  the  fire  of  the  forge  (a  dim 
ashy  coal),  and  the  shadowy  hood  merging  inclis- 
tinguishably  into  the  deep  duskiness  of  the  interior. 
In  contrast,  the  scene  glimpsed  through  the  low 
window  at  the  back  of  the  shop  had  a  certain 
vivid  illuminated  effect.  A  spider  web,  revealing 
its  geometric  perfection,  hung  half  across  one  cor 
ner  of  the  rude  casement ;  the  moonbeams  without 
were  individualized  in  fine  filar  delicacy,  like  the 
ravellings  of  a  silver  skein.  The  boughs  of  a  tree 
which  grew  on  a  slope  close  below  almost  touched 
the  lintel ;  the  leaves  seemed  a  translucent  green  ; 
a  bird  slept  on  a  twig,  its  head  beneath  its  wing. 


THE   RIDDLE   OF  THE   ROCKS  313 

Back  of  the  cabin,  which  was  situated  on  a  limited 
terrace,  the  great  altitudes  of  the  mountain  rose 
into  the  infinity  of  the  night. 

The  drawling  conversation  was  beset,  as  it 
were,  by  faint  fleckings  of  sound,  lightly  drawn 
from  a  crazy  old  fiddle  under  the  chin  of  a  gaunt, 
yellow -haired  young  giant,  one  Ephraim  Blinks, 
who  lolled  on  a  log,  and  who  by  these  vague  har 
monies  unconsciously  gave  to  the  talk  of  his  com 
rades  a  certain  theatrical  effect. 

Grinnell  slouched  up  and  sat  down  among 
them,  responding  with  a  nod  to  the  unceremonious 
"  Hy're,  Job  ?"  of  the  blacksmith,  who  seemed  thus 
to  do  the  abbreviated  honors  of  the  occasion.  The 
others  did  not  so  formally  notice  his  coming. 

The  subject  of  conversation  was  the  same  that 
had  pervaded  his  own  thoughts.  He  was  irritated 
to  observe  how  Purdee  had  usurped  public  atten 
tion,  and  yet  he  himself  listened  with  keenest  interest. 

"  Waal,"  said  the  ponderous  blacksmith,  "  I  kin 
onderstan'  mighty  well  ez  Moses  would  hev  been 
mighty  mad  ter  see  them  folks  a-worshippin'  o'  a 
calf — senseless  critters  they  be !  'Twarn't  no  use 
flingin'  down  them  rocks,  though,  an'  gittin'  'em 
bruk.  Sandstone  ain't  like  metal ;  ye  can't  heat  it 
an'  draw  it  down  an'  weld  it  agin." 

His  round  black  head  shone  in  the  moonlight, 
glistening  because  of  his  habit  of  plunging  it,  by 
way  of  making  his  toilet,  into  the  barrel  of  water 
where  he  tempered  his  steel.  He  crossed  his 
huge  folded  bare  arms  over  his  breast,  and  leaned 
back  against  the  door  on  two  legs  of  the  rickety 
chair. 


3H  THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS 

"  Navv,  sir,"  another  chimed  in.  "  He  mought  hev 
knowed  he'd  jes  hev  ter  go  ter  quarryin'  agin." 

"  They  air  always  a-crackin'  up  them  folks  in  the 
Bible  ez  sech  powerful  wise  men,"  said  another, 
vdiose  untrained  mind  evidently  held  the  germs  of 
advanced  thinking.  "  Tears  ter  me  ez  some  of  'em 
conducted  tharselves  ez  foolish  ez  enny  folks  I  know 
— this  hyar  very  Moses  one  o'  'em.  Throwin'  down 
them  rocks  'minds  me  o'  old  man  Pinner's  tantrums. 
Sher'ff  kem  ter  his  house  'bout  a  jedgmint  debt,  an' 
levied  on  his  craps.  An'  arter  he  war  gone  old 
man  tuk  a  axe  an'  gashed  bodaciously  inter  the 
loom  an'  hacked  it  up.  Ez  ef  that  war  goin'  ter  do 
enny  good  !  His  wife  war  the  mos'  outed  woman  I 
ever  see.  They  'ain't  got  nare  nother  loom  nuther, 
an'  hain't  hearn  no  advices  from  the  Lord." 

The  violinist  paused  in  his  playing.  "  They  'lowed 
Moses  war  a  meek  man  too,"  he  said.  "He  killed  a 
man  with  a  brick-badge  an'  buried  him  in  the  sand. 
Mighty  meek  ways" — with  a  satirical  grimace. 

The  others,  divining  that  this  was  urged  in  justi 
fication  and  precedent  for  devious  modern  ways 
that  were  not  meek,  did  not  pursue  this  branch  of 
the  subject. 

"  S'prised  me  some,"  remarked  the  advanced  think 
er,  "  ter  hear  ez  them  tables  o'  stone  war  up  on  the 
bald  o'  the  mounting  thar.  I  hed  drawed  the  idee  ez 
'twar  in  some  other  kentry  somewhar — I  clunno — ' 
He  stopped  blankly.  He  could  not  formulate  his 
geographical  ignorance.  "  An'  I  never  knowed/' 
he  resumed,  presently,  "  ez  thar  war  enough  gold  in 
Tennessee  ter  make  a  gold  calf;  they  fund  gold 
hyar,  but  'twar  mighty  leetle." 


THE   RIDDLE    OF   THE    ROCKS  315 

"Mebbe  'twar  a  mighty  leetle  calf,"  suggested  the 
blacksmith. 

"  Mebbe  so,"  assented  the  other. 

"  Mebbe  'twar  a  silver  one,"  speculated  a  third ; 
"plenty  o'  silver  they'  low  thar  air  in  the  moun 
tings." 

The  violinist  spoke  up  suddenly.  "Git  one  o1 
them  Injuns  over  yander  ter  Quallatown  right  sea 
sonable  drunk,  an'  he'll  tell  ye  a  power  o'  places 
whar  the  old  folks  said  thar  war  silver."  He  bowed 
his  chin  once  more  upon  the  instrument,  and  again 
the  slow  drawling  conversation  proceeded  to  soft 
music. 

"  Ef  ye'll  b'lieve  me,"  said  the  advanced  thinker, 
"  I  never  war  so  conflusticated  in  my  life  ez  I  war 
when  he  stood  up  in  meetin'  an'  told  'bout'n  the 
tables  o'  the  law  bein'  on  the  bald  !  I  'lowed  'twar 
somewhar  'mongst  some  sort'n  people  named  'Gyp- 
tians." 

"  Mebbe  some  o'  them  Injuns  air  named  'Gyp- 
tians,"  suggested  Spears,  the  blacksmith. 

" -Navv,  sir,"  spoke  up  the  fiddler,  who  had  been 
to  Quallatown,  and  was  the  ethnographic  authority 
of  the  meeting.  "Tennessee  Injuns  be  named  Cher'- 
kee,  an'  Chick'saw,  an'  Creeks." 

There  was  a  silence.  The  moonlight  sifted  through 
the  dark  little  shanty  of  a  shop;  the  fretting  and 
foaming  of  a  mountain  stream  arose  from  far  down 
the  steep  slope,  where  there  was  a  series  of  cas 
cades,  a  fine  water-power,  utilized  by  a  mill.  The 
sudden  raucous  note  of  a  night-hawk  jarred  upon 
the  air,  and  a  shadow  on  silent  wings  sped  past. 
The  road  was  dusty  in  front  of  the  shop,  and  for  a 


3T6  THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS 

space  there  was  no  shade.  Into  the  full  radiance 
of  the  moonlight  a  rabbit  bounded  along,  rising 
erect  with  a  most  human  look  of  affright  in  its  great 
shining  eyes  as  it  tremulously  gazed  at  the  motion 
less  figures.  It  too  was  motionless  for  a  moment. 
The  young  musician  made  a  lunge  at  it  with  his 
bow;  it  sprang  away  with  a  violent  start — its  elon 
gated  grotesque  shadow  bounding  kangaroo-like  be 
side  it — into  the  soft  gloom  of  the  bushes.  There 
was  no  other  traveller  along  the  road,  and  the  talk 
was  renewed  without  further  interruption.  "Waal, 
sir,  ef 'twarn't  fur  the  testimony  o'  the  words  he  reads 
ez  air  graven  on  them  rocks,  I  couldn't  git  my 
cornsent  ter  b'lieve  ez  Moses  ever  war  in  Tennes 
see,"  said  the  advanced  thinker.  "  I  ain't  onder- 
takin'  ter  say  what  State  he  settled  in,  but  I  'lowed 
'twarn't  hyar.  It  mus'  hev  been,  though,  'count  o' 
the  scripture  on  them  broken  tables." 

"  I  never  knowed  a  meetin'  woke  ter  sech  a 
pint  o'  holiness.  The  saints  jes  rampaged  around 
till  it  fairly  sounded  like  the  cavortin's  o'  the  un 
godly,"  a  retrospective  voice  chimed  in. 

"  I  raised  thirty  -  two  hyme  chunes,"  said  the 
musician,  who  had  a  great  gift  in  quiring,  and  was 
the  famed  possessor  of  a  robust  tenor  voice.  "  A 
leetle  mo'  gloryin'  aroun'  an'  I'd  hev  kem  ter  the 
eend  o'  my  row,  an'  hev  hed  ter  begin  over  agin." 
He  spoke  with  acrimony,  reviewing  the  jeopardy 
in  which  his  repertoire  had  been  placed. 

"Waal,"  said  the  blacksmith,  passing  his  hand 
over  his  black  head,  as  sleek  and  shining  as  a 
beaver's,  "  I'm  a-goin'  up  ter  the  bald  o'  the  moun 
ting  some  day  soon,  ef  so  be  I  kin  make  out  ter 


THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS  317 

shoe  that  mare  o'  mine " — for  the  blacksmith's 
mount  was  always  barefoot — "  I'm  afeard  ter  trest 
her  unshod  on  them  slippery  slopes ;  I  want  ter 
read  some  o'  them  sayin's  on  the  stone  tables  my 
self.  I  likes  ter  git  a  tex'  or  the  eend  o'  a  hyme 
set  a-goin'  in  my  head — seems  somehow  ter  teach 
itself  ter  the  anvil,  an'  then  it  jes  says  it  back  an' 
forth  all  day.  Yestiddy  I  never  seen  its  beat — 
'Christ — war — born — in — Bethlehem.'  The  anvil 
jes  rang  with  that  ez  ef  the  actial  metal  hed  the 
gift  o'  prayer  an1  praise." 

"  Waal,  sir,"  exclaimed  Job  Grinnell,  who  had 
been  having  frequent  colloquies  aside  with  the 
companionable  jug,  "  ye  mought  jes  ez  well  save 
yer  shoes  an'  let  yer  mare  go  barefoot.  Thar  ain't 
nare  sign  o'  a  word  writ  on  them  rocks." 

They  all  sat  staring  at  him.  Even  the  singing, 
long-drawn  vibrations  of  the  violin  were  still. 

"  By  Hokey  !"  exclaimed  the  young  musician, 
"  I'll  take  Purdee's  word  ez  soon  ez  yourn." 

The  whiskey  which  Grinnell  had  drunk  had  ren 
dered  him  more  plastic  still  to  jealousy.  The  day 
was  not  so  long  past  when  Purdee's  oath  would 
have  been  esteemed  a  poor  dependence  against 
the  word  of  so  zealous  a  brother  as  he — a  pillar  in 
the  church,  a  shining  light  of  the  congregation. 
He  noted  the  significant  fact  that  it  behooved  him 
to  justify  himself ;  it  irked  him  that  this  was  ex 
acted  as  a  tribute  to  Purdee's  newly  acquired 
sanctity. 

"  Purdee's  jes  a-lyin'  an'  a-foolin'  ye,"  he  declared. 
"  Ever  been  up  on  the  bald  ?" 

They  had  lived  in  its  shadow  all   their  lives. 


318  THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS 

Even  by  the  circuitous  mountain  ways  it  was  not 
more  than  five  miles  from  where  they  sat.  But 
none  had  chanced  to  have  a  call  to  go,  and  it  was 
to  them  as  a  foreign  land  to  be  explored. 

"  Waal,  I  hev,  time  an'  agin,"  said  Grinnell.  "  I 
dunno  who  gin  them  rocks  the  name  of  Moses1 
tables  o'  the  Law.  Moses  must  hev  hed  a  power 
ful  block  an'  tackle  ter  lift  sech  tremenjious  rocks. 
I  hev  known  'em  named  sech  fur  many  a  year. 
But  I  seen  'em  not  three  weeks  ago,  an'  thar  ain't 
nare  word  writ  on  'em.  Thar's  the  mounting ; 
thar's  the  rocks ;  ye  kin  go  an'  stare-gaze  'em  an' 
sati'fy  yerse'fs." 

Whether  it  were  by  reason  of  the  cumulative  in 
fluences  of  the  continual  references  to  the  jug,  or  of 
that  sense  of  reviviscence,  that  more  alert  energy, 
which  the  cool  Southern  nights  always  impart  after 
the  sultry  summer  days,  the  suggestion  that  they 
should  go  now  and  solve  the  mystery,  and  meet 
the  dawn  upon  the  summit  of  the  bald,  found  instant 
acceptance,  which  it  might  not  have  secured  in  the 
stolid  daylight. 

The  moon,  splendid,  a  lustrous  white  encircled 
by  a  great  halo  of  translucent  green,  swung  high 
above  the  duskily  purple  mountains.  Below  in  the 
valleys  its  progress  was  followed  by  an  opalescent 
gossamer  presence  that  was  like  the  overflowing 
fulness,  the  surplusage,  of  light  rather  than  mist. 
The  shadows  of  the  great  trees  were  interlaced  with 
dazzling  silver  gleams.  The  night  was  almost  as 
bright  as  the  day,  but  cool  and  dank,  full  of  sylvan 
fragrance  and  restful  silence  and  a  romantic  liberty. 

The  blacksmith  carried  his  rifle,  for  wolves  were 


THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS  319 

often  abroad  in  the  wilderness.  Two  or  three  oth 
ers  were  similarly  armed;  the  advanced  thinker 
had  a  hunting-knife,  Job  Grinnell  a  pistol  that  went 
by  the  name  of  "  shootin1  -  iron."  The  musician 
carried  no  weapon.  "  I  ain't  'feared  o1  no  wolf," 
he  said  ;  "  I'll  play  'em  a  chune."  He  went  on  in 
the  vanguard,  his  tousled  yellow  hair  idealized  with 
many  a  shimmer  in  the  moonlight  as  it  hung  curling 
down  on  his  blue  jeans  coat,  his  cheek  laid  softly 
on  the  violin,  the  bow  glancing  back  and  forth  as 
if  strung  with  moonbeams  as  he  played.  The  men 
woke  the  solemn  silences  with  their  loud  mirthful 
voices  ;  they  startled  precipitate  echoes ;  they  fell 
into  disputes  and  wrangled  loudly,  and  would  have 
turned  back  if  sure  of  the  way  home  ,  but  Job  Grin 
nell  led  steadily  on,  and  they  were  fain  to  follow. 
They  lagged  to  look  at  a  spot  where  some  man, 
unheeded  even  by  tradition,  had  dug  his  heart's 
grave  in  a  vain  search  for  precious  metal.  A  deep 
excavation  in  the  midst  of  the  wilderness  told  the 
story;  how  long  ago  it  was  might  be  guessed  from 
the  age  of  a  stalwart  oak  that  had  sunk  roots  into 
its  depths;  the  shadows  were  heavy  about  it;  a 
sense  of  despair  brooded  in  the  loneliness.  And 
so  up  and  up  the  endless  ascent ;  sometimes  great 
chasms  were  at  one  side,  stretching  further  and  fur 
ther,  and  crowding  the  narrow  path — the  herder's 
trail — against  the  sheer  ascent,  till  it  seemed  that 
the  treacherous  mountains  were  yawning  to  engulf 
them.  The  air  was  growing  colder,  but  was  exqui 
sitely  clear  and  exhilarating ;  the  great  dewy  ferns 
flung  silvery  fronds  athwart  the  way ;  vines  in  stu 
pendous  lengths  swung  from  the  tops  of  gigantic 


320  THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS 

trees  to  the  roots.  Hark  !  among  them  birds  chirp  ; 
a  matutinal  impulse  seems  astir  in  the  woods  ;  the 
moon  is  undimmed ;  the  stars  faint  only  because 
of  her  splendors ;  but  one  can  feel  that  the  earth 
has  roused  itself  to  a  sense  of  a  new  day.  And 
there,  with  such  feathery  flashes  of  white  foam,  such 
brilliant  straight  lengths  of  translucent  water,  such 
a  leaping  grace  of  impetuous  motion,  the  currents 
of  the  mountain  stream,  like  the  arrows  of  Diana, 
shoot  down  the  slopes.  And  now  a  vague  mist  is 
among  the  trees,  and  when  it  clears  away  they  seem 
shrunken,  as  under  a  spell,  to  half  their  size.  They 
grow  smaller  and  smaller  still,  oak  and  chestnut 
and  beech,  but  dwarfed  and  gnarled  like  some  old 
orchard.  And  suddenly  they  cease,  and  the  vast 
grassy  dome  uprises  against  the  sky,  in  which  the 
moon  is  paling  into  a  dull  similitude  of  itself ;  no 
longer  wondrous,  transcendent,  but  like  some  lily 
of  opaque  whiteness,  fair  and  fading.  Beneath  is 
a  purple,  deeply  serious,  and  sombre  earth,  to  which 
mists  minister,  silent  and  solemn  ;  myriads  of 
mountains  loom  on  every  hand  ;  the  half-seen  mys 
teries  of  the  river,  which,  charged  with  the  red  clay 
of  its  banks,  is  of  a  tawny  color,  gleams  as  it  winds 
in  and  out  among  the  white  vapors  that  reach  in 
fantastic  forms  from  heaven  above  to  the  valley 
below.  There  is  a  certain  relief  in  the  mist — it 
veils  the  infinities  of  the  scene,  on  which  the  mind 
can  lay  but  a  trembling  hold. 

"  Folks  tell  all  sort'n  cur'ous  tales  'bout'n  this 
hyar  spot,"  said  Job  Grinnell,  his  square  face,  his 
red  hair  hanging  about  his  ears,  and  his  ragged  red 
beard  visible  in  the  dull  light  of  the  coming  day. 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  ROCKS         321 

"  I  hev  hearn  folks  'low  ez  a  pa'tridge  up  hyar  will 
look  ez  big  ez  a  Dominicky  rooster.  An'  ef  ye 
listens  ye  kin  hear  words  from  somewhar.  An1 
sometimes  in  the  cattle-herdin'  season  the  beastises 
will  kem  an'  crowd  tergether,  an'  stan'  on  the  bald 
in  the  moonlight  all  night." 

"I  clunno,"  said  the  advanced  thinker,  "ez  I  be 
s'prised  enny  ef  Purdee,  ez  be  huntin'  up  hyar  so 
constant,  hev  got  sorter  teched  in  the  head,  ter 
take  up  sech  a  cur'ous  notion  'bout'n  them  rocks." 

He  glanced  along  the  slope  at  the  spot,  visible 
now,  where  Moses  flung  the  stone  tables  and  they 
broke  in  twain.  And  there,  standing  beside  them, 
was  a  man  of  great  height,  dressed  in  blue  jeans, 
his  broad-brimmed  hat  pushed  from  his  brow,  and 
his  meditative  dark  eyes  fixed  upon  the  rocks ;  a 
deer,  all  gray  and  antlered,  lay  dead  at  his  feet, 
and  his  rifle  rested  on  the  ground  as  he  leaned  on 
the  muzzle. 

A  glance  was  interchanged  between  the  others. 
Their  intention,  the  promptings  of  curiosity,  had 
flagged  during  the  long  tramp  and  the  gradual 
waning  of  the  influence  of  the  jug.  The  coinci 
dence  of  meeting  Purdee  here  revived  their  interest. 
Grinnell,  remembering  the  ancient  feud,  held  back, 
being  unlikely  to  elicit  Purdee's  views  in  the  face  of 
their  contradiction.  The  blacksmith  and  the  young 
fiddler  took  their  way  down  toward  him. 

He  looked  up  with  a  start,  seeing  them  at  some 
little  distance.  His  full,  contemplative  eyes  rested 
upon  them  for  a  moment  almost  devoid  of  ques 
tioning.  It  was  not  the  face  of  a  man  who  finds 
himself  confronted  with  the  discovery  of  his  duplic- 


322  THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS 

ity  and  his  hypocrisy.  There  was  a  strange  doubt 
stirring  in  the  blacksmith's  heart.  As  he  ap 
proached  he  looked  upon  the  storied  rocks  with  a 
sort  of  solemn  awe,  as  if  they  had  indeed  been 
given  by  the  hand  of  the  Lord  to  his  servant,  who 
broke  them  here  in  his  wrath.  He  knew  that  the 
step  of  the  musician  slackened  as  he  followed. 
What  holy  mysteries  were  they  not  rushing  in  upon  ? 
He  spoke  in  a  bated  voice. 

"  Roger,"  he  said,  "  we'uns  hearn  ye  tell  "bout 
the  scriptures  graven  on  these  hyar  tables  ez  Moses 
flung  down,  an'  we'uns  'lowed  we'uns  would  kern 
an'  read  some  fur  ourselves." 

Purdee  did  not  speak  nor  hesitate ;  he  moved 
aside  that  the  blacksmith  might  stand  where  he 
had  been — as  it  were  at  the  foot  of  the  page. 

But  what  transcendent  glories  thronged  the 
heavens  —  what  august  splendors  of  dawn!  Had 
the  sun  ever  before  risen  like  this,  with  the  sky  an 
emblazonment  of  red,  of  gold,  of  darting  gleams  of 
light ;  with  the  mountains  most  royally  purple  or 
most  radiantly  blue ;  with  the  prismatic  mists  in 
flight ;  with  the  slow  climax  of  the  dazzling  sphere 
ascending  to  dominate  it  all  ? 

The  blacksmith  knelt  down  to  read.  The  musi 
cian,  his  silent  violin  under  his  chin,  leaned  over 
his  comrade's  shoulder.  The  hunter  stood  still, 
expectant. 

Alas  !  the  corrugations  of  time  ,  the  fissile  results 
of  the  frost ;  the  wavering  line  of  ripple-marks  of 
seas  that  shall  ebb  no  more  ,  growth  of  lichen  ;  an 
army  of  ants  in  full  march  ;  a  passion-flower  trail 
ing  from  a  crevice,  its  purple  blooms  lying  upon 


"THE  TABLES  OF  THE  LAW 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  ROCKS  323 

the  gray  stone  near  where  it  is  stamped  with  the 
fossil  imprint  of  a  sea -weed,  faded  long  ago  and 
forgotten.  Or  is  it,  alas  !  for  the  eyes  that  can  see 
only  this  ? 

The  blacksmith  looked  up  with  a  twinkling  leer  ; 
the  violinist  recovered  his  full  height,  and  drew 
the  bow  dashingly  across  the  strings ;  then  let  his 
arm  fall. 

"Roger,"  the  blacksmith  said,  "dad-burned  ef  I 
kin  read  ennything  hyar." 

The  young  musician  looked  over  his  brawny  shoul 
der  in  silence. 

"Whar  d'ye  make  out  enny  letters,  Roger?"  per 
sisted  Spears. 

Purdee  leaned  over  and  eagerly  pointed  with  his 
ramrod  to  a  curious  corrugation  of  the  surface  of 
the  rock.  Again  the  blacksmith  bent  down ;  the 
musician  craned  forward,  his  yellow  hair  hanging 
about  his  bronzed  face. 

"  I  hev  been  toler'ble  well  acquainted  with  the 
alphabit,"  said  Spears,  "fur  goin'  on  thirty  year  an' 
better,  an'  I'll  swar  ter  Heaven  thar  ain't  nare  sign 
of  a  letter  thar." 

Purdee  stared  at  him  in  wild  -  eyed  amazement 
for  a  moment.  Then  he  flung  himself  upon  his 
knees  beside  the  great  rock,  and  guiding  his  ram 
rod  over  the  surface,  he  exclaimed,  "  Hyar,  Spears  ; 
right  hyar !" 

The  blacksmith  was  all  incredulous  as  he  lent 
himself  to  a  new  posture,  and  leaned  forward  to 
look  with  the  languid  indulgence  of  one  who  will 
not  again  entertain  doubt. 

"  Nare  A,  nor  B,  nor  C,  nor  none  o'  the  fambly," 


324  THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS 

he  declared.  "These  hyar  rocks  ain't  no  Moses1 
tables  sure  enough  ;  Moses  never  war  in  Tennessee. 
They  be  jes  like  enny  other  rock,  an'  thar  ain't  a 
word  o'  writin'  on  'em." 

He  looked  up  with  a  curious  questioning  at  Pur- 
dee's  face — a  strange  face  for  a  man  detected  in  a 
falsehood,  a  trick.  The  deep-set  eyes  were  wide  as 
if  straining  for  perception  denied  them.  Despite 
the  chill,  rare  air,  great  drops  had  started  on  his 
brow,  and  were  falling  upon  his  beard,  and  upon  his 
hands.  These  strong  hands  were  quivering ;  they 
hovered  above  the  signs  on  the  rocks.  The  mystic 
letters,  the  inspired  words,  where  were  they  ?  Grope 
as  he  might,  he  could  not  find  them.  Alas  !  doubt 
and  denial  had  climbed  the  mountain — the  awful 
limitations  of  the  more  finite  human  creature— and 
his  inspiration  and  the  finer  enthusiasms  of  the 
truth  were  dead. 

Dead  with  a  throe  that  was  almost  like  a  literal 
death.  This — on  this  he  had  lived ;  the  ether  of 
ecstasy  was  the  breath  of  his  life.  He  clutched  at 
the  stained  red  handkerchief  knotted  about  his 
throat  as  if  he  were  suffocating ;  he  tore  it  open  as 
he  swayed  backward  on  his  knees.  He  did  not 
hear — or  he  did  not  heed — the  laugh  among  the 
little  crowd  on  the  bald — satirical,  rallying,  zestful. 
He  was  deaf  to  the  strains  of  the  violin,  jeeringly 
and  jerkingly  playing  a  foolish  tune.  It  was  grow 
ing  fainter,  for  they  had  all  turned  about  to  betake 
themselves  once  more  to  the  world  below.  He 
could  have  seen,  had  he  cared  to  see,  their  bearded 
grinning  faces  peering  through  the  stunted  trees, 
as  descending  they  came  near  the  spot  where  he 


THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS  325 

had  lavished  the  spiritual  graces  of  his  feeling,  his 
enthusiasm,  his  devotion,  his  earnest  reaching  for 
something  higher,  for  something  holy,  which  had 
refreshed  his  famished  soul ;  had  given  to  its  dumb 
ness  words ;  had  erased  the  values  of  the  years,  of 
the  nations  ;  had  made  him  friends  with  Moses  on 
the  "  bald  ";  had  revealed  to  him  the  finger  of  the 
Lord  on  the  stone. 

He  took  no  heed  of  his  gestures,  of  which,  in 
deed,  he  was  unconscious.  They  were  fine  dramat 
ically,  and  of  great  power,  as  he  alternately  rose  to 
his  full  height,  beating  his  breast  in  despair,  and 
again  sank  upon  his  knees,  with  a  pondering  brow 
and  a  searching  eye,  and  a  hovering,  trembling 
hand,  striving  to  find  the  clew  he  had  lost.  They 
might  have  impressed  a  more  appreciative  audi 
ence,  but  not  one  more  entertained  than  the  cluster 
of  men  who  looked  and  paused  and  leered  in 
amusement  at  one  another,  and  thrust  out  satirical 
tongues.  Long  after  they  had  disappeared,  the 
strains  of  the  violin  could  be  heard,  filling  the 
solemn,  stricken,  strangely  stunted  woods  with  a 
grotesquely  merry  presence,  hilarious  and  jeering. 

Purdee  found  it  possible  to  survive  the  destruc 
tion  of  illusions.  Most  of  us  do.  It  wrought  in 
him,  however,  the  saturnine  changes  natural  upon 
the  relinquishment  of  a  dear  and  dead  fantasy. 
This  ethereal  entity  is  a  more  essential  component 
of  happiness  than  one  might  imagine  from  the  ex 
treme  tenuity  of  the  conditions  of  its  existence. 
Purdee's  fantasy  may  have  been  a  poor  thing,  but, 
although  he  could  calmly  enough  close  its  eyes, 


326  THE   RIDDLE   OF  THE   ROCKS 

and  straighten  its  limbs,  and  bury  it  decently  from 
out  the  offended  view  of  fact,  he  felt  that  he  should 
mourn  it  in  his  heart  as  long  as  he  should  live. 
And  he  was  bereaved. 

There  is  a  certain  stage  in  every  sorrow  when  it 
rejects  sympathy.  Purdee,  always  taciturn,  grave, 
uncommunicative,  was  invested  with  an  austere 
aloofness,  and  was  hardly  to  be  approached  as  he 
sat,  silent  and  absent,  brooding  over  the  fire  at  his 
own  home.  When  roused  by  some  circumstance 
of  the  domestic  routine,  and  it  became  apparent 
that  his  mood  was  not  sullenness  or  anger,  but 
simple  and  complete  introversion,  it  added  a  dig 
nity  and  suggested  a  remoteness  that  were  yet  less 
reassuring.  His  son,  who  stood  in  awe  of  him — 
not  because  of  paternal  severity,  but  because  no 
boy  could  refrain  from  a  worshipping  respect  for 
so  miraculous  a  shot,  a  woodsman  so  subtly 
equipped  with  all  elusive  sylvan  instincts  and 
knowledge  —  forbore  to  break  upon  his  medita 
tions  by  the  delivery  of  GrinnelPs  message.  Nev 
ertheless  the  consciousness  of  withholding  it 
weighed  heavily  upon  him.  He  only  pretermitted 
it  for  a  time,  until  a  more  receptive  state  of  mind 
should  warrant  it.  Day  by  day,  however,  he  looked 
with  eagerness  when  he  came  into  the  cabin  in  the 
evening  to  ascertain  if  his  father  were  still  seated 
in  the  chimney-corner  silently  smoking  his  pipe. 
Purdee  had  seldom  remained  at  home  so  long  at  a 
time,  and  the  boy  had  a  daily  fear  that  the  gun  on 
the  primitive  rack  of  deer  antlers  would  be  miss 
ing,  and  word  left  in  the  family  that  he  had  taken 
the  trail  up  the  mountain,  and  would  return  '"cord- 


THE   RIDDLE   OF  THE   ROCKS  327 

in'  ter  luck  with  the  varmints."  And  thus  Job 
Grinnell's  enigmatical  message,  that  had  the  ring 
of  defiance,  might  remain  indefinitely  postponed. 

Abner  had  not  realized  how  long  a  time  it  had 
been  delayed,  until  one  evening  at  the  wood-pile,  in 
tossing  off  a  great  stick  to  hew  into  lengths  for  the 
chimney-place,  he  noticed  that  thin  ice  had  formed 
in  the  moss  and  the  dank  cool  shadows  of  the  inter 
stices.  "  I  tell  ye  now,  winter  air  a-comm',"  he  ob 
served.  He  stood  leaning  on  his  axe-handle  and 
looking  down  upon  the  scene  so  far  below  ;  for  Pur- 
dee's  house  was  perched  half-way  up  on  the  moun 
tain-side,  and  he  could  see  over  the  world  how  it 
fared  as  the  sun  went  down.  Far  away  upon  the 
levels  of  the  valley  of  East  Tennessee  a  golden  haze 
glittered  resplendent,  lying  close  upon  an  irradi 
ated  earth,  and  ever  brightening  toward  the  hori 
zon,  and  it  seemed  as  if  the  sun  in  sinking  might 
hope  to  fall  in  fairer  spheres  than  the  skies  he  had 
left,  for  they  were  of  a  dun-color  and  an  opaque 
consistency.  Only  one  horizontal  rift  gave  glimpses 
of  a  dazzling  ochreous  tint  of  indescribable  brill 
iancy,  from  the  focus  of  which  the  divergent  light 
was  shed  upon  the  western  limits  of  the  land. 
Chilhowee,  near  at  hand,  was  dark  enough — a  pur 
plish  garnet  hue ;  but  the  scarlet  of  the  sour-wood 
gleamed  in  the  cove ;  the  hickory  still  flared  gal 
lantly  yellow ;  the  receding  ranges  to  the  north 
and  south  were  blue  and  more  faintly  azure.  The 
little  log  cabin  stood  with  small  fields  about  it,  for 
Purdee  barely  subsisted  on  the  fruits  of  the  soil, 
and  did  not  seek  to  profit.  It  had  only  one  room, 
with  a  loft  above ;  the  barn  was  a  makeshift  of 


328  THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE    ROCKS 

poles,  badly  chinked,  and  showing  through  the 
crevices  what  scanty  store  there  was  of  corn  and 
pumpkins.  A  black-and-white  work-ox,  that  had 
evidently  no  deficiency  of  ribs,  stood  outside  of  the 
fence  and  gazed,  a  forlorn  Tantalus,  at  these  unat 
tainable  dainties ;  now  and  then  a  muttered  low 
escaped  his  lips.  Nobody  noticed  him  or  sympa 
thized  with  him,  except  perhaps  the  little  girl,  who 
had  come  out  in  her  sun-bonnet  to  help  her  brother 
bring  in  the  fuel.  He  gruffly  accepted  her  com 
pany,  a  little  ashamed  of  her  because  she  was  a  girl ; 
since,  however,  there  was  no  other  boy  by  to  laugh, 
he  permitted  her  the  delusion  that  she  was  of  as 
sistance. 

As  he  paused  to  rest  he  reiterated,  "  Winter  air 
a-comin\  I  tell  ye." 

"  D'ye  reckon,  Ab,"  she  asked,  in  her  high,  thin 
little  voice,  her  hands  full  of  chips  and  the  basket 
at  her  feet,  "ez  Grinnell's  baby  knows  Chris'mus 
air  a-comin'  ?" 

He  glowered  at  her  as  he  leaned  on  the  axe.  "  I 
reckon  GrinnelTs  old  baby  dunno  B  from  Bull-foot/' 
he  declared,  gruffly. 

The  recollection  of  the  message  came  over  him. 
He  had  a  pang  of  regret,  remembering  all  the  old 
grudges  against  the  Grinnells.  They  were  re- 
enforced  by  this  irrepressible  yearning  after  their 
baby,  this  admission  that  they  had  aught  which 
was  not  essentially  despicable.  Nevertheless,  he 
suddenly  saw  a  reason  for  the  Grinnell  baby's  ex 
istence  ;  he  loaded  up  both  arms  with  the  sticks  of 
wood,  and,  followed  by  the  peripatetic  sun-bonnet, 
conscientiously  weighed  down  with  one  billet,  he 


THE   RIDDLE   OF  THE   ROCKS  329 

strode  into  the  house,  and  let  his  burden  fall  with 
a  mighty  clatter  in  the  corner  of  the  chimney. 
The  sun-bonnet  staggered  up  and  threw  her  stick 
on  the  top  of  the  pile  of  wood. 

Purdee,  sitting  silently  smoking,  glanced  up  at 
the  noise.  Abner  took  advantage  of  the  momenta 
ry  notice  to  claim,  too,  the  attention  of  his  mother. 
"  I  wish  ye'd  make  Eunice  quit  talkin'  'bout  the 
Grinnells'  old  baby,  like  she  war  actially  demented 
— uglies'  bald-headed,  slab-sided,  slobbery  old  baby 
I  ever  see — nare  tooth  in  its  head !  I  do  despise 
them  Grinnells." 

As  he  anticipated,  his  father  spoke  suddenly  : 
"  Ye  jes  keep  away  from  thar,"  he  said,  sternly. 
"  I  trest  them  folks  no  furder  'n  a  rattlesnake." 

"/  ain't  consortin'  along  o'  'em,"  declared  the 
boy.  "  But  I  actially  hed  ter  take  Eunice  by  the 
scalp  o'  her  head  an'  lug  her  off  one  day  when  she 
hung  on  thar  fence  a-stare-gazin'  Grinnell's  baby 
like  'twar  fitten  ter  eat." 

The  child's  mother,  a  cadaverous,  pale  woman, 
was  listlessly  stringing  the  warping-bars  with  hanks 
of  variegated  yarn.  The  grandmother,  who  con 
served  a  much  more  active  and  youthful  interest  in 
life,  took  down  a  brown  gourd  used  as  a  scrap-bas 
ket  that  was  on  a  protruding  lath  of  the  clay-and- 
stick  chimney,  and  hunted  among  the  scraps  of 
homespun  and  bits  of  yarn  stowed  within  it.  The 
room  was  much  like  the  gourd  in  its  aged  brown 
tint;  its  indigenous  aspect,  as  if  it  had  not  been 
made  with  hands,  but  was  some  spontaneous  pro 
duction  of  the  soil ;  with  its  bits  of  bright  color — 
the  peppers  hanging  from  the  rafters,  the  rainbow- 


330  THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS 

hued  yarn  festooning  the  warping -bars,  the  red 
coals  of  the  fire,  the  blue  and  yellow  ware  ranged 
on  the  shelf,  the  brown  puncheon  floor  and  walls 
and  ceiling  and  chimney  —  it  might  have  seemed 
the  interior  of  a  similar  gourd  of  gigantic  propor 
tions.  She  dressed  a  twig  from  the  pile  of  wood 
in  a  gay  scrap  of  cloth,  casting  glances  the  while  at 
the  little  girl,  and  handed  it  to  her. 

"  I  hain't  never  seen  ez  good  a  baby  ez  this,"  she 
said,  with  the  convincing  coercive  mendacity  of  a 
grandmother. 

The  little  girl  accepted  it  humbly ;  it  was  a  good 
baby  doubtless  of  its  sort,  but  it  was  not  alive, 
which  could  not  be  denied  of  the  Grinnell  baby, 
Grinnell  though  it  was. 

"An'  Job  Grinnell  he  kem  down  ter  the  fence, 
an'  'lowed  he'd  slit  our  ears,  an'  named  us  shoats," 
continued  her  brother.  Purdee  lifted  his  head. 
"An'  sent  a  word  ter  dad,"  said  the  boy,  tremu 
lously. 

"  What  word  did  he  send  ter — me  ?"  cried  Pur- 
dee. 

The  boy  quailed  to  tell  him.  "  He  tole  me  ter 
ax  ye  ef  ye  ever  read  sech  ez  this  on  Moses'  tables 
in  the  mountings — *  An'  ye  shell  claim  sech  ez  be 
yer  own,  an'  yer  neighbors'  belongings  shell  ye  in 
no  wise  boastfully  medjure  fur  yourn,  nor  look  upon 
it  fur  covetiousness,  nor  yit  git  a  big  name  up  in 
the  kentry  fur  ownin'  sech  ez  be  another's,'  "  faltered 
the  sturdy  Abner. 

The  next  moment  he  felt  an  infinite  relief.  He 
suddenly  recognized  the  fact  that  he  had  been 
chiefly  restrained  from  repeating  the  words  by  an 


THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS  331 

unrealized  terror  lest  they  prove  true — lest  some 
thing  his  father  claimed  was  not  his,  indeed. 

But  the  expression  of  anger  on  Purdee's  face 
was  merged  first  in  blank  astonishment,  then  in 
perplexed  cogitation,  then  in  renewed  and  over 
powering  amazement. 

The  wife  turned  from  the  warping-bars  with  a 
vague  stare  of  surprise,  one  hand  poised  uncer 
tainly  upon  a  peg  of  the  frame,  the  other  holding 
a  hank  of  "  spun  truck."  The  grandmother  looked 
over  her  spectacles  with  eyes  sharp  enough  to 
seem  subsidized  to  see  through  the  mystery. 

"  In  the  name  o'  reason  and  religion,  Roger  Pur- 
dee,"  she  adjured  him,  "  what  air  that  thar  per 
verted  Philistine  talkin'  'bout  ?" 

"  It  air  more'n  I  kin  jedge  of,"  said  Purdee,  still 
vainly  cogitating. 

He  sat  for  a  time  silent,  his  dark  eyes  bent  on 
the  fire,  his  broad,  high  forehead  covered  by  his 
hat  pulled  down  over  it,  his  long,  tangled,  dark 
locks  hanging  on  his  collar. 

Suddenly  he  rose,  took  down  his  gun,  and  started 
toward  the  door. 

"  Roger,"  cried  his  wife,  shrilly,  "  I'd  leave  the 
critter  be.  Lord  knows  thar's  been  enough  blood 
spilt  an'  good  shelter  burned  along  o'  them  Purdees' 
an'  Grinnells'  quar'ls  in  times  gone.  Laws-a-massy !" 
— she  wrung  her  hands,  all  hampered  though  they 
were  in  the  "  spun  truck  " — "  I'd  ruther  be  a  sheep 
'thout  a  soul,  an'  live  in  peace." 

"A  sca'ce  ch'ice,"  commented  her  mother. 
"  Sheep's  got  ter  be  butchered.  I'd  ruther  be  the 
butcher,  myself — healthier." 


332  THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS 

Purdee  was  gone.  He  had  glanced  absently  at 
his  wife  as  if  he  hardly  heard.  He  waited  till  she 
paused ;  then,  without  answer,  he  stepped  hastily 
out  of  the  door  and  walked  away. 

The  cronies  at  the  blacksmith's  shop  latterly 
gathered  within  the  great  flaring  door,  for  the 
frost  lay  on  the  dead  leaves  without,  the  stars 
scintillated  with  chill  suggestions,  and  the  wind 
was  abroad  on  nights  like  these.  On  shrill  pipes 
it  played ;  so  weird,  so  wild,  so  prophetic  were  its 
tones  that  it  found  only  a  shrinking  in  the  heart  of 
him  whose  ear  it  constrained  to  listen.  The  sound 
of  the  torrent  far  below  was  accelerated  to  an 
agitated,  tumultuous  plaint,  all  unknown  when  its 
pulses  were  bated  by  summer  languors.  The  moon 
was  in  the  turmoil  of  the  clouds,  which,  routed  in 
some  wild  combat  with  the  winds,  were  streaming 
westward. 

And  although  the  rigors  of  the  winter  were  in 
abeyance,  and  the  late  purple  aster  called  the 
Christmas- flower  bloomed  in  the  sheltered  grass 
at  the  door,  the  forge  fire,  flaring  or  dully  glowing, 
overhung  with  its  dusky  hood,  was  a  friendly  thing 
to  see,  and  in  its  vague  illumination  the  rude  in 
terior  of  the  shanty — the  walls,  the  implements  of 
the  trade,  the  bearded  faces  grouped  about,  the 
shadowy  figures  seated  on  whatever  might  serve, 
a  block  of  wood,  the  shoeing  -  stool,  a  plough,  or 
perched  on  the  anvil  —  became  visible  to  Roger 
Purdee  from  far  down  the  road  as  he  approached. 
Even  the  head  of  a  horse  could  be  seen  thrust  in 
at  the  window,  while  the  brute,  hitched  outside,  be- 


THE   RIDDLE   OF  THE   ROCKS  333 

gulled  the  dreary  waiting  by  watching  with  a  lumi 
nous,  intelligent  eye  the  gossips  within,  as  if  he 
understood  the  drawling  colloquy.  They  were  suf 
fering  some  dearth  of  timely  topics,  supplying  the 
deficiency  with  reminiscences  more  or  less  stale, 
and  had  expected  no  such  sensation  as  they  experi 
enced  when  a  long  shadow  fell  athwart  the  doorway, 
— the  broad  aperture  glimmering  a  silvery  gray  con 
trasted  with  the  brown  duskiness  of  the  interior 
and  the  purple  darkness  of  the  distance  ;  the  forge 
fire  showed  Purdee's  tall  figure  leaning  on  the  door 
frame,  and  lighted  up  his  serious  face  beneath  his 
great  broad-brimmed  hat,  his  intent,  earnest  eyes, 
his  tangled  black  beard  and  locks.  He  gave  no 
greeting,  and  silence  fell  upon  them  as  his  search 
ing  gaze  scanned  them  one  by  one. 

"  Whar's  Job  Grinnell  ?"  he  demanded,  abruptly. 

There  was  a  shuffling  of  feet,  as  if  those  mem 
bers  most  experienced  relief  from  the  constraint 
that  silence  had  imposed  upon  the  party.  A  vi 
bration  from  the  violin  —  a  sigh  as  if  the  instru 
ment  had  been  suddenly  moved  rather  than  a  touch 
upon  the  strings — intimated  that  the  young  musi 
cian  was  astir.  But  it  was  Spears,  the  blacksmith, 
who  spoke. 

"  Kern  in,  Roger,"  he  called  out,  cordially,  as  he 
rose,  his  massive  figure  and  his  sleek  head  showing 
in  the  dull  red  light  on  the  other  side  of  the  an 
vil,  his  bare  arms  folded  across  his  chest.  "  Naw, 
Job  ain't  hyar;  hain't  been  hyar  for  a  right  smart 
while." 

There  was  a  suggestion  of  disappointment  in  the 
attitude  of  the  motionless  figure  at  the  door.  The 


334  THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS 

deeply  earnest,  pondering  face,  visible  albeit  the 
red  light  from  the  forge-fire  was  so  dull,  was  keenly 
watched.  For  the  inquiry  was  fraught  with  pecul 
iar  meaning  to  those  cognizant  of  the  long  and 
bitter  feud. 

"I  ax,"  said  Purdee,  presently,  "  kase  Grinnell 
sent  me  a  mighty  cur'ous  word  the  t'other  day." 
He  lifted  his  head.  "  Hev  enny  o'  you-uns  hearn 
him  'low  lately  ez  I  claim  ennything  ez  ain't 
mine?" 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment.  Then  the 
forge  was  suddenly  throbbing  with  the  zigzagging 
of  the  bow  of  the  violin  jauntily  dandering  along 
the  strings.  His  keen  sensibility  apprehended  the 
sudden  jocosity  as  a  jeer,  but  before  he  could  say 
aught  the  blacksmith  had  undertaken  to  reply. 

"  Waal,  Purdee,  ef  ye  hedn't  axed  me,  I  warn't 
layin'  off  ter  say  nuthin  'bout'n  it.  'Tain't  no  con- 
sarn  o'  mine  ez  I  knows  on.  But  sence  ye  hev 
axed  me,  I  hold  my  jaw  fur  the  fear  o'  no  man. 
The  words  ain't  writ  ez  I  be  feared  ter  pernounce. 
An'  ez  all  the  kentry  hev  hearn  'bout'n  it  'ceptin' 
you-uns,  I  dunno  ez  I  hev  enny  call  ter  hold  my 
jaw.  The  Lord  'ain't  set  no  seal  on  my  lips  ez  I 
knows  on." 

"  Naw,  sir !"  said  Purdee,  his  great  eyes  gloom 
ing  through  the  dusk  and  flashing  with  impatience. 
"  He  'ain't  set  no  seal  on  yer  lips,  ter  jedge  by  the 
way  ye  wallop  yer  tongue  about  inside  o'  'em  with 
fool  words.  Whyn't  ye  bite  off  what  ye  air  tryin' 
ter  chaw  ?" 

"  Waal,  then,"  said  the  admonished  orator,  blunt 
ly,  "  Grinnell  'lows  ye  don't  own  that  thar  Ian' 


THE   RIDDLE  OF   THE   ROCKS  335 

around  them  rocks  on  the  bald,  no  more'n  ye  read 
enny  writin'  on  'em." 

"  Not  them  rocks  !"  cried  Purdee,  standing  sud 
denly  erect — "  the  tables  o'  the  Law,  writ  with  the 
finger  o'  the  Lord — an'  Moses  flung  'em  down  thar 
an'  bruk  'em.  All  the  kentry  knows  they  air  Moses' 
tables.  An'  the  groun'  whar  they  lie  air  mine." 

"  Tain't ,  Grinnell  say  'tain't." 

"Naw,  sir,"  chimed  in  the  young  musician,  his 
violin  silent.  "  Job  Grinnell  declars  he  owns  it 
hisself,  an'  ef  he  war  willin'  ter  stan'  the  expense 
he'd  set  up  his  rights,  but  the  Ian'  ain't  wuth  it. 
He  'lows  his  line  runs  spang  over  them  rocks,  an'  a 
heap  furder." 

Purdee  was  silent-  one  or  two  of  the  gossips 
laughed  jeeringly ;  he  had  been  proved  a  liar  once. 
It  was  well  that  he  did  not  deny;  he  was  put  to 
open  shame  among  them. 

"  An'  Grinnell  say,"  continued  Blinks,  "  ez  ye  hev 
gone  an'  tole  big  tales  'mongst  the  brethren  fur 
ownin'  sech  ez  ain't  yourn,  an'  readin'  of  s'prisin' 
sayin's  on  the  rocks." 

He  bent  his  head  to  a  series  of  laughing  har 
monics,  and  when  he  raised  it,  hearing  no  retort, 
the  silvery  gray  square  of  the  door  was  empty. 
He  saw  the  moon  glimmer  on  the  clumps  of  grass 
outside  where  the  Christmas-flower  bloomed. 

The  group  sat  staring  in  amaze ;  the  blacksmith 
strode  to  the  door  and  looked  out,  himself  a  massive, 
dark  silhouette  upon  the  shimmering  neutrality  of 
the  background.  There  was  no  figure  in  sight ;  no 
faint  foot -fall  was  audible,  no  rustle  of  the  sere 
leaves ;  only  the  voice  of  the  mountain  torrent,  far 


336  THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  ROCKS 

below,  challenged  the  stillness  with  its  insistent 
cry. 

He  looked  back  for  a  moment,  with  a  vague, 
strange  doubt  if  he  had  seen  aught,  heard  aught, 
in  the  scene  just  past.  "  Hain't  Purdee  been 
hyar  ?"  he  asked,  passing  his  hand  across  his 
eyes.  The  sense  of  having  dreamed  was  so 
strong  upon  him  that  he  stretched  his  arms  and 
yawned. 

The  gleaming  teeth  of  the  grouped  shadows  de 
monstrated  the  merriment  evoked  by  the  query. 
The  chuckle  was  arrested  midway. 

"  Ye  'pear  ter  'low  ez  suthin'  hev  happened  ter 
Purdee,  an'  that  thar  war  his  harnt,"  suggested 
one. 

The  bold  young  musician  laid  down  his  violin 
suddenly.  The  instrument  struck  upon  a  keg  of 
nails,  and  gave  out  an  abrupt,  discordant  jangle, 
startling  to  the  nerves.  "  Shet  up,  ye  durned 
squeech-owl !"  he  exclaimed,  irritably.  Then,  low 
ering  his  voice,  he  asked  :  •*  Didn't  they  'low  down 
yander  in  the  Cove  ez  Widder  Peters,  the  day  her 
husband  war  killed  by  the  landslide  up  in  the  moun 
ting,  heard  a  hoe  a-scrapin'  mightily  on  the  gravel  in 
the  gyarden-spot,  an'  went  ter  the  door,  an'  seen  him 
thar  a-workin',  an'  axed  him  when  he  kem  home  ? 
An'  he  never  lifted  his  head,  but  hoed  on.  An' 
she  went  down  thar  'mongst  the  corn,  an'  she 
couldn't  find  nobody.  An'  jes  then  the  Johns  boys 
rid  up  an'  'lowed  ez  Jim  Peters  war  dead,  an'  hed 
been  fund  in  the  mounting,  an'  they  war  a-fetchin' 
of  him  then." 

The  horse's  head  within  the  window  nodded  vi- 


THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS  337 

olently  among  the  shadows,  and  the  stones  rolled 
beneath  his  hoof  as  he  pawed  the  ground. 

"  Mis'  Peters  she  knowed  suthin'  were  a-goin'  ter 
happen  when  she  seen  that  harnt  a-hoein'." 

"  I  reckon  she  did,"  said  the  blacksmith,  stretch 
ing  himself,  his  nerves  still  under  the  delusion  of 
recent  awakening.  "  Jim  never  hoed  none  when 
he  war  alive.  She  mought  hev  knowed  he  war 
dead  ef  she  seen  him  hoein'." 

"Waal,  sir,"  exclaimed  the  violinist,  "I'm  a-goin' 
up  yander  ter  Purdee's  ter-morrer  ter  find  out  what 
he  died  of,  an'  when." 

That  he  was  alive  was  proved  the  next  day,  to 
the  astonishment  of  the  smith  and  his  friends. 
The  forge  was  the  voting-place  of  the  district,  and 
there,  while  the  fire  was  flaring,  the  bellows  blow 
ing,  the  anvil  ringing,  the  echo  vibrating,  now  loud, 
now  faint,  with  the  antiphonal  chant  of  the  ham 
mer  and  the  sledge,  a  notice  was  posted  to  inform 
the  adjacent  owners  that  Roger  Purdee's  land,  held 
under  an  original  grant  from  the  State,  would  be 
processioned  according  to  law  some  twenty  days 
after  date,  and  the  boundaries  thereof  defined  and 
established.  The  fac-simile  of  the  notice,  too,  was 
posted  on  the  court-house  door  in  the  county  town 
twenty  miles  away,  for  there  were  those  who  jour 
neyed  so  far  to  see  it. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  the  blacksmith,  as  he  stood  in 
the  unfamiliar  street  and  gazed  at  it,  his  big  arms, 
usually  bare,  now  hampered  with  his  coat  sleeves 
and  folded  upon  his  chest — "  I  wonder  ef  he  footed 
it  all  the  way  ter  town  at  the  gait  he  tuk  when  he 
lit  out  from  the  forge  ?" 


338  THE   RIDDLE  OF   THE   ROCKS 

It  was  a  momentous  day  when  the  county  sur 
veyor  planted  his  Jacob's-staff  upon  the  State  line 
on  the  summit  of  the  bald.  His  sworn  chain-bear 
ers,  two  tall  young  fellows  clad  in  jeans,  with 
broad-brimmed  wool  hats,  their  heavy  boots  drawn 
high  over  their  trousers,  stood  ready  and  waiting, 
with  the  sticks  and  clanking  chain,  on  the  margin 
of  the  ice-cold  spring  gushing  out  on  this  bleak 
height,  and  signifying  more  than  a  fountain  in  the 
wilderness,  since  it  served  to  define  the  southeast 
corner  of  Purdee's  land.  The  two  enemies  were 
perceptibly  conscious  of  each  other.  Grinnell's 
broad  face  and  small  eyes  laden  with  fat  lids  were 
persistently  averted.  Purdee  often  glanced  tow 
ard  him  gloweringly,  his  head  held,  nevertheless, 
a  little  askance,  as  if  he  rejected  the  very  sight. 
There  was  the  fire  of  a  desperate  intention  in  his 
eyes.  Looking  at  his  face,  shaded  by  his  broad- 
brimmed  hat,  one  could  hardly  have  doubted  now 
whether  it  expressed  most  ferocity  or  force.  His 
breath  came  quick  —  the  bated  breath  of  a  man 
who  watches  and  waits  for  a  supreme  moment. 
His  blue  jeans  coat  was  buttoned  close  about  his 
sun-burned  throat,  where  the  stained  red  handker 
chief  was  knotted.  He  wore  a  belt  with  his  pow 
der-horn  and  bullet-pouch,  and  carried  his  rifle  on 
his  shoulder;  the  hand  that  held  it  trembled,  and 
he  tried  to  quell  the  quiver.  "  I'll  prove  it  fust, 
an'  kill  him  arterward  —  kill  him  arterward,"  he 
muttered. 

In  the  other  hand  he  held  a  yellowed  old  paper. 
Now  and  then  he  bent  his  earnest  dark  eyes  upon 
the  grant,  made  many  a  year  ago  by  the  State  of 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  ROCKS         339 

Tennessee  to  his  grandfather ;  for  there  had  been 
no  subsequent  conveyances. 

The  blacksmith  had  come  begirt  with  his  leather 
apron,  his  shirt-sleeves  rolled  up,  and  with  his  ham 
mer  in  his  hand,  an  inopportune  customer  having 
jeopardized  his  chance  of  sharing  in  the  sensation  of 
the  day.  The  other  neighbors  all  wore  their  coats 
closely  buttoned.  Blinks  carried  his  violin  hung 
upon  his  back ;  the  sharp  timbre  of  the  wind,  cut 
ting  through  the  leafless  boughs  of  the  stunted 
woods,  had  a  kindred  fibrous  resonance.  Clouds 
hung  low  far  beneath  them ;  here  and  there,  as  they 
looked,  the  trees  on  the  slopes  showed  above  and 
again  below  the  masses  of  clinging  vapors.  Some 
times  close  at  hand  a  peak  would  reveal  itself, 
asserting  the  solemn  vicinage  of  the  place ,  then 
draw  its  veil  slowly  about  it,  and  stand  invisible  and 
in  austere  silence.  The  surveyor,  a  stalwart  figure, 
his  closely  buttoned  coat  giving  him  a  military  as 
pect,  looked  disconsolately  downward. 

"I  hoped  I'd  die  before  this,"  he  remarked. 
"I'm  equal  to  getting  over  anything  in  nature 
that's  flat  or  oblique,  but  the  vertical  beats  me." 

He  bent  to  take  sight  for  a  moment,  the  group 
silently  watching  him.  Suddenly  he  came  to  the 
perpendicular,  and  strode  off  down  the  rugged 
slope  over  gullies  and  bowlders,  through  rills  and 
briery  tangles,  his  eyes  distended  and  eager  as  if 
he  were  led  into  the  sylvan  depths  by  the  lure  of  a 
vision.  The  chain  -  bearers  followed,  continually 
bending  and  rising,  the  recurrent  genuflections  re 
sembling  the  fervors  of  some  religious  rite.  The 
chain  rustled  sibilantly  among  the  dead  leaves, 


340  THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE   ROCKS 

and  was  ever  and  anon  drawn  out  to  its  extremest 
length.  Then  the  dull  clank  of  the  links  was 
silent. 

"  Stick  !"  called  out  the  young  mountaineer  in 
the  rear. 

"  Stuck  !"  responded  his  comrade  ahead. 

And  once  more  the  writhing  and  jingling  among 
the  withered  leaves.  The  surveyor  strode  on,  turn 
ing  his  face  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left,  with 
his  Jacob's  -  staff  held  upright  before  him.  The 
other  men  trooped  along  scatteringly,  dodging  un 
der  the  low  boughs  of  the  stunted  trees.  They 
pressed  hastily  together  when  the  great  square 
rocks — Moses'  tables  of  the  Law — came  into  view, 
lying  where  it  was  said  the  man  of  God  flung  them 
upon  the  sere  slope  below,  both  splintered  and  fis 
sured,  and  one  broken  in  twain.  The  surveyor  was 
bearing  straight  down  upon  them.  The  men  run 
ning  on  either  side  could  not  determine  whether  the 
line  would  fall  within  the  spot  or  just  beyond.  They 
broke  into  wild  exclamations. 

"Ye  may  hammer  me  out  ez  flat  ez  a  skene," 
cried  the  blacksmith,  "  ef  I  don't  b'lieve  ez  Purdee 
hev  got  'em." 

"  Naw,  sir,  naw  !"  cried  another  fervent  amateur ; 
"thar's  the  north.  I  jes  now  viewed  Grinneirs 
dad's  deed ;  the  line  ondertakes  ter  run  with  Pur- 
dee's  line ;  he  hev  got  seven  hunderd  poles  ter  the 
north  ;  ef  they  air  a-goin'  ter  the  north,  them  tables 
o'  the  Law  air  Grinnell's." 

A  wild  chorus  ensued. 

"  Naw  !"  "  Yes  !"  "  Thar  they  go  !"  "  A-bear- 
in'  off  that-a-way!"  "Beats  my  time!"  as  they 


THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS  341 

stumbled  and  scuttled  alongside  the  acolytes  of 
the  Compass,  who  bowed  down  and  rose  up  at 
every  length  of  the  chain.  Suddenly  a  cry  from 
the  chain-bearers. 

"  Out !" 

Stillness  ensued. 

The  surveyor  stopped  to  register  the  "  out."  It 
was  a  moment  of  thrilling  suspense ;  the  rocks  lay 
only  a  few  chains  further ;  Grinnell,  into  whose  con 
fidence  doubt  had  begun  to  be  instilled,  said  to 
himself,  all  a-tremble,  that  he  would  hardly  have 
staked  his  veracity,  his  standing  with  the  brethren, 
if  he  had  realized  that  it  was  so  close  a  matter  as 
this.  He  had"  long  known  that  his  father  owned 
the  greater  part  of  the  unproductive  wilder 
ness  lying  between  the  two  ravines ;  the  land  was 
almost  worthless  by  reason  of  the  steep  slants 
which  rendered  it  utterly  untillable.  He  was  sure 
that  by  the  terms  of  his  deed,  which  his  father 
had  from  its  vendor,  Squire  Bates,  his  line  included 
the  Moses'  tables  on  which  Purdee  had  built  so  fal 
lacious  a  repute  of  holiness.  He  looked  once  more 
at  the  paper — "thence  from  Crystal  Spring  with 
Purdee's  line  north  seven  hundred  poles  to  a  stake 
in  the  middle  of  the  river." 

Purdee  too  was  all  a-quiver  with  eagerness.  He 
had  not  beheld  those  rocks  since  that  terrible  day 
when  all  the  fine  values  of  his  gifted  vision  had 
been  withdrawn  from  him,  and  he  could  read  no 
more  with  eyes  blinded  by  the  limitations  of  what 
other  men  could  see — the  infinitely  petty  purlieus 
of  the  average  sense.  He  had  a  vague  idea  that 
should  they  say  this  was  his  land  where  those 


342  THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS 

strange  rocks  lay,  he  would  see  again,  he  would 
read  undreamed-of  words,  writ  with  a  pen  of  fire. 
He  started  toward  them,  and  then  with  a  conscious 
effort  he  held  back. 

The  surveyor  took  no  heed  of  the  sentiments 
involved  in  processioning  Purdee's  land.  He  stood 
leaning  on  his  Jacob's-staff,  as  interesting  to  him 
as  Moses'  rocks,  and  in  his  view  infinitely  more 
useful,  and  wiped  his  brow,  and  looked  about,  and 
yawned.  To  him  it  was  merely  the  surveying  for 
a  foolish  cause  of  a  very  impracticable  and  steep 
tract  of  land,  and  the  only  reason  it  should  be 
countenanced  by  heaven  or  earth  was  the  fees  in 
volved.  And  this  was  what  he  saw  at  the  end  of 
Purdee's  line. 

Suddenly  he  took  up  his  Jacob's-staff  and  march 
ed  on  with  a  long  stride,  bearing  straight  down 
upon  the  rocks.  The  whole  cortege  started  anew — 
the  genuflecting  chain-bearers,  the  dodging,  scram 
bling,  running  spectators.  On  one  of  the  strange 
stunted  leafless  trees  a  colony  of  vagrant  crows 
had  perched,  eerie  enough  to  seem  the  denizens 
of  those  weird  forests ;  they  broke  into  raucous 
laughter — Haw  !  haw  !  haw  ! — rising  to  a  wild  com 
motion  of  harsh,  derisive  discord  as  the  men  once 
more  gave  vent  to  loud,  excited  cries.  For  the 
surveyor,  stalking  ahead,  had  passed  beyond  the 
great  tables  of  the  Law;  the  chain-bearers  were 
drawing  Purdee's  line  on  the  other  side  of  them, 
and  they  had  fallen,  if  ever  they  fell  here  from 
Moses'  hand  and  broke  in  twain,  upon  Purdee's 
land,  granted  to  his  ancestor  by  the  State  of 
Tennessee. 


THE  RIDDLE   OF   THE  ROCKS  343 

He  could  not  speak  for  joy,  for  pride.  His  dark 
eyes  were  illumined  by  a  glancing,  amber  light. 
He  took  off  his  hat  and  smoothed  with  his  rough 
hand  his  long  black  hair,  falling  from  his  massive 
forehead.  He  leaned  against  one  of  the  stunted 
oaks,  shouldering  his  rifle  that  he  had  loaded  for 
Grinnell — he  could  hardly  believe  this,  although  he 
remembered  it.  He  did  not  want  to  shoot  Grin 
nell  ;  he  would  not  waste  the  good  lead  ! 

And  indeed  Grinnell  had  much  ado  to  defend 
himself  against  the  sneers  and  rebukes  with  which 
the  party  beguiled  the  way  through  the  wintry 
woods.  "  Ter  go  a-claimin'  another  man's  land, 
an'  put  him  ter  the  expense  o'  processionin'  it,  an' 
git  his  line  run  !"  exclaimed  the  blacksmith,  indig 
nantly.  "An'  ye  'ain't  got  nare  sign  o'  a  show  at 
Moses'  tables  !" 

"  I  dunno  how  this  hyar  line  air  a-runnin',"  de 
clared  Grinnell,  sorely  beset.  "I  don't  b'lieve  it 
air  a-runnin'  north." 

The  surveyor  was  hard  by.  He  had  planted  his 
staff  again,  and  was  once  more  taking  his  bearings. 
He  looked  up  for  a  second. 

"  Northwest,"  he  said. 

Grinnell  stared  for  a  moment ;  then  strode  up  to 
the  surveyor,  and  pointed  with  his  stubby  finger  at 
a  word  on  his  deed. 

The  official  looked  with  interest  at  it ;  he  held 
up  suddenly  Purdee's  grant  and  read  aloud,  "  From 
Crystal  Spring  seven  hundred  poles  northwest  to  a 
stake  in  the  middle  of  the  river." 

He  examined,  too,  the  original  plat  of  survey 
which  he  had  taken  to  guide  him,  and  also  the  plat 


344  THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  ROCKS 

made  when  Squire  Bates  sold  to  GrinnelPs  father : 
"  northwest"  they  all  agreed.  There  was  evidently 
a  clerical  error  on  the  part  of  the  scrivener  who  had 
written  Grinnell's  deed. 

In  a  moment  the  harassed  man  saw  that  through 
the  processioning  of  Purdee's  land  he  had  lost 
heavily  in  the  extent  of  his  supposed  possessions. 
He  it  was  who  had  claimed  what  was  rightfully 
another's.  And  because  of  the  charge  Purdee  was 
the  richer  by  a  huge  slice  of  mountain  land — how 
large  he  could  not  say,  as  he  ruefully  followed  the 
line  of  survey. 

But  for  this  discovery  the  interest  of  procession 
ing  Purdee's  land  would  have  subsided  with  the 
determination  of  the  ownership  of  the  limited  envi 
ronment  of  the  stone  tables  of  the  Law.  Now,  as 
they  followed  the  ever-diverging  line  to  the  north 
west,  the  group  was  pervaded  by  a  subdued  and 
tremulous  excitement,  in  which  even  the  surveyor 
shared.  Two  or  three  whispered  apart  now  and 
then,  and  Grinnell,  struggling  to  suppress  his  dis 
may,  was  keenly  conscious  of  the  glances  that 
sought  him  again  and  again  in  the  effort  to  judge 
how  he  was  taking  it.  Only  Purdee  himself  was 
withdrawn  from  the  interest  that  swayed  them  all. 
He  had  loitered  at  first,  dallying  with  a  temptation 
to  slip  silently  from  the  party  and  retrace  his  way  to 
the  tables  and  ascertain,  perchance,  if  some  vestige 
of  that  mystic  scripture  might  not  reveal  itself  to  him 
anew,  or  if  it  had  been  only  some  morbid  fancy,  some 
futile  influence  of  solitude,  some  fevered  condition 
of  the  blood  or  the  brain,  that  had  traced  on  the 
stone  those  gracious  words,  the  mere  echo  of  which 


THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS  34$ 

— his  stuttered,  vague  recollections — had  roused 
the  camp-meeting  to  fervid  enthusiasms  undreamed 
of  before.  And  then  he  put  from  him  the  project 
— some  other  time,  perhaps,  for  doubts  lurked  in 
his  heart,  hesitation  chilled  his  resolve — some  other 
time,  when  his  companions  and  their  prosaic  in 
fluence  were  all  far  away.  He  was  roused  abrupt 
ly,  as  he  stalked  along,  to  the  perception  of  the 
deepening  excitement  among  them.  They  had 
emerged  from  the  dense  growths  of  the  mountain 
to  the  lower  slope,  where  pastures  and  fields — 
whence  the  grain  had  been  harvested — and  a 
garden  and  a  dwelling,  with  barns  and  fences, 
lay  before  them  all.  And  as  Purdee  stopped  and 
stared,  the  realization  of  a  certain  significant  fact 
struck  him  so  suddenly  that  it  seemed  to  take  his 
breath  away.  That  divergent  line  stretching  to 
the  northwest  had  left  within  his  boundaries  the 
land  on  which  his  enemy  had  built  his  home. 

He  looked  ;  then  he  smote  his  thigh  and  laughed 
aloud. 

The  rocks  on  the  river-bank  caught  the  sound, 
and  echoed  it  again  and  again,  till  the  air  seemed 
full  of  derisive  voices.  Under  their  stings  of  jeer 
ing  clamor,  and  under  the  anguish  of  the  calamity 
which  his  reeling  senses  could  scarcely  measure, 
Job  Grinnell's  composure  suddenly  gave  way.  He 
threw  up  his  arms  and  called  upon  Heaven  ;  he 
turned  and  glared  furiously  at  his  enemy.  Then, 
as  Purdee's  laughter  still  jarred  the  air,  he  drew  a 
"shooting-iron  "  from  his  pocket.  The  blacksmith 
closed  with  him,  struggling  to  disarm  him.  The 
weapon  was  discharged  in  the  turmoil,  the  ball 


346  THE   RIDDLE  OF  THE  ROCKS 

glancing  away  in  the  first  quiver  of  sunshine  that 
had  reached  the  earth  to-day,  and  falling  spent 
across  the  river. 

Grinnell  wrested  himself  from  the  restraining 
grasp,  and  rushed  down  the  slope  to  his  gate  to 
hide  himself  from  the  gaze  of  the  world — his  world, 
that  little  group.  Then  remembering  that  it  was 
no  longer  his  gate,  he  turned  from  it  in  an  agony 
of  loathing.  And  knowing  that  earth  held  no 
shelter  for  him  but  the  sufferance  of  another 
man's  roof,  he  plunged  into  the  leafless  woods  as 
if  he  heavily  dragged  himself  by  a  power  which 
warred  within  him  with  other  strong  motives,  and 
disappeared  among  the  myriads  of  holly  bushes  all 
aglow  with  their  red  berries. 

The  spectators  still  followed  the  surveyor  and  his 
Jacob's -staff,  but  Purdee  lingered.  He  walked 
around  the  fence  with  a  fierce,  gloating  eye,  a  pan 
ther-like,  loping  tread,  as  a  beast  might  patrol  a 
fold  before  he  plunders  it.  All  the  venom  of  the 
old  feud  had  risen  to  the  opportunity.  Here  was 
his  enemy  at  his  mercy.  He  knew  that  it  was  less 
than  seven  years  since  the  enclosures  had  been 
made,  acres  and  acres  of  tillable  land  cleared,  the 
houses  built  —  all  achieved  which  converted  the 
worthlessnessof  a  wilderness  into  the  sterling  values 
of  a  farm.  He — he,  Roger  Purdee — was  a  rich  man 
for  the  "  mountings,"  joining  his  little  to  this  com 
petence.  All  the  cruelties,  all  the  insults,  all  the 
traditions  of  the  old  vendetta  came  thronging  into 
his  mind,  as  distinctly  presented  as  if  they  were  a 
series  of  hideous  pictures;  for  he  was  not  used  to 
think  in  detail,  but  in  the  full  portrayal  of  scenes. 


THE   RIDDLE   OF   THE   ROCKS  347 

The  Purdee  wrongs  were  all  avenged.  This  result 
was  so  complete,  so  baffling,  so  ruinous  temporally, 
so  humiliating  spiritually !  It  was  the  fullest  re 
plication  of  revenge  for  all  that  had  challenged  it. 

"  How  Uncle  Ezra  would  hev  rej'iced  ter  hev 
lived  ter  see  this  day !"  he  thought,  with  a  pious  re 
gret  that  the  dead  might  not  know. 

The  next  moment  his  attention  was  suddenly  at 
tracted  by  a  movement  in  the  door-yard.  A  woman 
had  been  hanging  out  clothes  to  dry,  and  she  turned 
to  go  in,  without  seeing  the  striding  figure  patrol 
ling  the  enclosure.  A  baby — a  small  bundle  of  a 
red  dress — was  seated  on  the  pile  of  sorghum-cane 
where  the  mill  had  worked  in  the  autumn ;  the  stalks 
were  broken,  and  flimsy  with  frost  and  decay,  and 
washed  by  the  rains  to  a  pallid  hue,  yet  more 
marked  in  contrast  with  the  brown  ground.  The 
baby's  dress  made  a  bright  bit  of  color  amidst  the 
dreary  tones.  As  Purdee  caught  sight  of  it  he  re 
membered  that  this  was  "  Grinnell's  old  baby,"  who 
had  been  the  cause  of  the  renewal  of  the  ancient 
quarrel,  which  had  resulted  so  benignantly  for  him. 
"  I  owe  you  a  good  turn,  sis,"  he  murmured,  satiri 
cally,  glaring  at  the  child  as  the  unconscious  mother 
lifted  her  to  go  in  the  house.  The  baby,  looking 
over  the  maternal  shoulder,  encountered  the  stern 
eyes  staring  at  her.  She  stared  gravely  too.  Then 
with  a  bounce  and  a  gurgle  she  beamed  upon  him 
from  out  the  retirement  of  her  flapping  sun-bonnet ; 
she  smiled  radiantly,  and  finally  laughed  outright, 
and  waved  her  hands  and  again  bounced  beguil- 
ingly,  and  thus  toothlessly  coquetting,  disappeared 
within  the  door. 


34-8  THE    RIDDLE   OF  THE   ROCKS 

Before  Purdee  reached  home,  flakes  of  snow,  the 
first  of  the  season,  were  whirling  through  the  gray 
dusk  noiselessly,  ceaselessly,  always  falling,  yet 
never  seeming  to  fall,  rather  to  restlessly  pervade 
the  air  with  a  vacillating  alienation  from  all  the 
laws  of  gravitation.  Elusive  fascinations  of  thought 
were  liberated  with  the  shining  crystalline  aerial  pul 
sation  ;  some  mysterious  attraction  dwelt  down  long 
vistas  amongst  the  bare  trees ;  their  fine  fibrous 
grace  of  branch  and  twig  was  accented  by  the  snow, 
which  lay  upon  them  with  exquisite  lightness,  de 
spite  the  aggregated  bulk,  not  the  densely  packed 
effect  which  the  boughs  would  show  to-morrow. 
The  crags  were  crowned;  their  grim  faces  looked 
frowningly  out  like  a  warrior's  from  beneath  a 
wreath.  Nowhere  could  the  brown  ground  be  seen  ; 
already  the  pine  boughs  bent,  the  needles  failing  to 
pierce  the  drifts.  On  the  banks  of  the  stream,  on 
the  slopes  of  the  mountain,  in  wildest  jungles,  in  the 
niches  and  crevices  of  bare  cliffs,  the  holly-berries 
glowed  red  in  the  midst  of  the  ever-green  snow- 
laden  leaves  and  ice-barbed  twigs.  When  his  house 
at  last  came  into  view,  the  roof  was  deeply  cov 
ered  ;  the  dizzying  whirl  had  followed  every  line  of 
the  rail-fence ;  scurrying  away  along  the  furthest 
zigzags  there  was  a  vanishing  glimpse  of  a  squirrel ; 
the  boles  of  the  trees  were  embedded  in  drifts  ;  the 
chickens  had  gone  to  roost ;  the  sheep  were  hud 
dling  in  the  broad  door  of  the  rude  stable ;  he  saw 
their  heads  lifted  against  the  dark  background 
within,  where  the  ox  was  vaguely  glimpsed.  He 
caught  their  mild  glance  despite  the  snow  that  in- 
starred  with  its  ever-shifting  crystals  the  dark  space 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  ROCKS        349 

of  the  aperture,  and  intervened  as  a  veil.  They 
suddenly  reminded  him  of  the  season  —  that  it 
was  Christmas  Eve;  of  the  sheep  which  so  many 
years  ago  beheld  the  angel  of  the  Lord  and  the 
glory  of  the  great  light  that  shone  about  the 
shepherds  abiding  in  the  fields.  Did  they  follow, 
he  wondered,  the  shepherds  who  went  to  seek  for 
Christ  ?  Ah,  as  he  paused  meditatively  beside  the 
rail-fence— what  matter  how  long  ago  it  was,  how 
far  away! — he  saw  those  sheep  lying  about  the 
fields  under  the  vast  midnight  sky.  They  lift 
their  sleepy  heads.  Dawn  ?  not  yet,  surely ;  and 
they  lay  them  down  again.  And  one  must  bleat 
aloud,  turning  to  see  the  quickening  sky ;  and  one, 
woolly,  white,  white  as  snow,  with  eyes  illumined 
by  the  heralding  heavens,  struggles  to  its  feet,  and 
another,  and  the  flock  is  astir ;  and  the  shepherds, 
drowsing  doubtless,  are  awakened  to  good  tidings 
of  great  joy. 

What  a  night  that  was  ! — this  night — Christmas 
Eve.  He  wondered  he  had  not  thought  of  it  be 
fore.  And  the  light  still  shines,  and  the  angel 
waits,  and  the  eternal  hosts  proclaim  peace  on 
earth,  good-will  toward  men,  and  summon  us  all 
to  go  and  follow  the  shepherds  and  see — what  ?  A 
little  child  cradled  in  a  manger.  The  mountain 
eer,  leaning  on  his  gun  by  the  rail-fence,  looked 
through  the  driving  snow  with  the  lights  of  divi 
nation  kindling  in  his  eyes,  seeing  it  all,  feeling 
its  meaning  as  never  before.  Christ  came  thus, 
he  knew,  for  a  purpose.  He  could  have  come  in 
the  chariots  of  the  sun  or  on  the  wings  of  the  wind. 
But  He  was  cradled  as  a  little  child,  that  men 


350  THE   RIDDLE  OF  THE  ROCKS 

might  revere  humanity  for  the  sake  of  Him  who 
had  graced  it ;  that  they,  thinking  on  Him,  might 
be  good  to  one  another  and  to  all  little  chil 
dren. 

As  he  burst  into  the  door  of  his  house  the  ela- 
tions  of  his  high  religious  mood  were  rudely  dis 
pelled  by  shrill  cries  of  congratulation  from  his  wife 
and  her  mother.  For  the  news  had  preceded  him. 
Ephraim  Blinks  with  his  riddle  had  stopped  there 
on  his  way  to  play  at  some  neighboring  merry-mak 
ing,  and  had  acquainted  them  with  the  result  of 
processioning  Purdee's  land. 

"  We'll  go  down  thar  an'  live  !"  cried  his  wife, 
with  a  gush  of  joyful  tears.  "  Arter  all  our  scratch- 
in'  along  like  ten-toed  chickens  all  this  time,  we'll 
hev  comfort  an'  plentyj  We'll  live  in  Grinnell's 
good  house  !  But  ter  think  o'  our  trials,  an'  how 
pore  we  hev  been  !" 

"This  air  the  Purdees'  day!"  cried  the  grand 
mother,  her  face  flushed  with  the  semblance  of 
youth.  "  Arter  all  ez  hev  kem  an'  gone,  the  jedg- 
mint  o'  the  Lord  hev  descended  on  Grinnell,  an' 
he  air  cast  out.  An'  his  fields,  an'  house,  an'  bin, 
an'  barn,  air  Purdee's  !" 

The  fire  flared  and  faded  ;  shadows  of  the  night 
gloomed  thick  in  the  room  —  this  night  of  nights 
that  bestowed  so  much,  that  imposed  so  much  on 
man  and  on  his  fellow-man  ! 

"  Ain't  the  Grinnell  baby  got  no  home  ?"  whim 
pered  the  hereditary  enemy. 

The  mountaineer  remembered  the  Lord  of  heaven 
and  earth  cradled,  a  little  Child,  in  the  manger. 
He  remembered,  too,  the  humble  child  smiling  its 


THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  ROCKS         351 

guileless  good -will  at  the  fence.  He  broke  out 
suddenly. 

"  How  kem  the  fields  Purdee's,"  he  cried,  lean 
ing  his  back  against  the  door  and  striking  the 
puncheon  floor  with  the  butt  of  the  gun  till  it  rang 
again  and  again,  "  or  the  house,  or  the  bin,  or  the 
barn  ?  Did  he  plant  'em  ?  Did  he  build  'em  ? 
Who  made  'em  his'n  ?" 

"  The  law !"  exclaimed  both  women  in  a  breath. 

"  Thar  ain't  no  law  in  heaven  or  yearth  ez  kin 
gin  an  honest  man  what  ain't  his'n  by  rights,"  he 
declared. 

An  insistent  feminine  clamor  arose,  protesting 
the  sovereign  power  of  the  law.  He  quaked  for  a 
moment ;  dominant  though  he  was  in  his  own 
house,  he  could  not  face  them,  but  he  could  flee. 
He  suddenly  stepped  out  of  the  door,  and  when 
they  opened  it  and  looked  after  him  in  the  snowy 
dusk  and  the  whitened  woods,  he  was  gone. 

And  popular  opinion  coincided  with  them  when 
it  became  known  that  he  had  formally  relinquished 
his  right  to  that  portion  of  the  land  improved  by 
Grinnell.  He  said  to  the  old  squire  who  drew  up 
the  quit-claim  deed,  which  he  executed  that  Christ 
mas  Eve,  that  he  was  not  willing  to  profit  by  his 
enemy's  mistake,  and  thus  the  consideration  ex 
pressed  in  the  conveyance  was  the  value  of  the 
land,  considered  not  as  a  farm,  but  as  so  many 
acres  of  wilderness  before  an  axe  was  laid  to  the 
trunk  of  a  tree  or  the  soil  upturned  by  a  plough. 
It  was  the  minimum  of  value,  and  Grinnell  came 
cheaply  off. 

The  blacksmith,  the  mountain  fiddler,  and  the 


352  THE   RIDDLE   OF  THE   ROCKS 

advanced  thinker,  who  had  been  active  in  the  sur 
vey,  balked  of  the  expected  excitement  attendant 
upon  the  ousting  of  Grinnell,  and  some  sensational 
culmination  of  the  ancient  feud,  were  not  in  sym 
pathy  with  the  pacific  result,  and  spoke  as  if  they 
had  given  themselves  to  unrequited  labors. 

"  Thar  ain't  no  way  o'  settlin'  what  that  thar 
critter  Purdee  owns  'ceptin'  ez  consarns  Moses' 
tables  o'  the  Law.  He  clings  ter  them,"  they  said, 
in  conclave  about  the  forge  fire  when  the  big 
doors  were  closed  and  the  snow,  banking  up  the 
crevices,  kept  out  the  wind.  "  There  ain't  no  use 
in  percessionin'  Purdee's  land." 

And  indeed  Purdee's  possessions  were  wider  far 
than  even  that  divergent  line  which  the  county 
surveyor  ran  out  might  seem  to  warrant ;  for  on 
the  mountain-tops  largest  realms  of  solemn  thought 
were  open  to  him.  He  levied  tribute  upon  the 
liberties  of  an  enthused  imagination.  He  exulted 
in  the  freedom  of  the  expanding  spaces  of  a  spirit 
ual  perception  of  the  spiritual  things.  When  the 
snow  slipped  away  from  the  tables  of  the  Law,  the 
man  who  had  read  strange  scripture  engraven 
thereon  took  his  way  one  day,  doubtful,  but  falter 
ing  with  hope,  up  and  up  to  the  vast  dome  of  the 
mountain,  and  knelt  beside  the  rocks  to  see  if  per 
chance  he  might  trace  anew  those  mystic  runes 
which  he  once  had  some  fine  instinct  to  decipher. 
And  as  he  pondered  long  he  found,  or  thought  he 
found,  here  a  familiar  character,  and  there  a  slowly 
developing  word,  and  anon — did  he  see  it  aright  ? — 
a  phrase ;  and  suddenly  it  was  discovered  to  him 
that,  whether  their  origin  were  a  sacred  mystery  or 


THE   RIDDLE   OF  THE   ROCKS  353 

the  fantastic  scroll-work  of  time  as  the  rock  weath 
ered,  high  thoughts,  evoking  thrilling  emotions,  bear 
scant  import  to  one  who  apprehends  only  in  mental 
acceptance.  And  he  realized  that  the  multiform 
texts  which  he  had  read  in  the  fine  and  curious 
script  were  but  paraphrases  of  the  simple  mandate 
to  be  good  to  one  another  for  the  sake  of  that  holy 
Child  cradled  in  manger,  and  to  all  little  children. 


THE  END 


IN  THE  "STRANGER  PEOPLE'S"  COUNTRY. 

By  CHARLES  EGBERT  CRADDOCK.     Illustrated.     Post 
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In  this  strong  story  Miss  Murfree  has  shown  better  art  than 
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true,  the  irony  delicate,  the  satire  severe  when  its  subject  is 
unworthy,  the  comedy  sparkling,  and  the  tragedy,  as  we  have 
said,  inevitable.  One  or  two  more  such  books,  and  the  fame 
of  the  artist  would  be  dim  beside  that  of  the  novelist. — N.  Y. 
Evening  Post. 

PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER   &   BROTHERS,  NEW  YORK. 

above  works  are  for  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  will  be  sent  by 
the  publishers,  postage  prepaid,  to  any  part  of  the  United  States, 
Canada,  or  Mexico,  on  receipt  of  the  price. 


BY  MAKY  E.  WILKINS. 


PEMBROKE.     A   Novel.      Illustrated.     16mo,  Cloth, 
Ornamental,  $1  50. 

JANE  FIELD.     A  Novel.     Illustrated.     16mo,  Cloth, 

Ornamental,  $1  25. 
YOUNG  LUCRETIA,   and  Other  Stories.     Illustrated. 

Post  8vo,  Cloth,  Ornamental,  $1  25. 

A  NEW  ENGLAND   NUN,  and  Other  Stories.      16'mo, 

Cloth,  Ornamental,  $1  25. 
A  HUMBLE  ROMANCE,  and  Other  Stories.  16mo, 

Cloth,  Ornamental,  $1  25. 
GILES  COREY,  YEOMAN.  Illustrated.  32mo,  Cloth, 

Ornamental,  50  cents. 

We  have  long  admired  Miss  Wilkins  as  one  of  the  most  pow 
erful,  original,  and  profound  writers  of  America ;  but  we  are 
bound  to  say  that  "Pembroke"  is  entitled  to  a  higher  distinc 
tion  than  the  critics  have  awarded  to  Miss  Wilkins's  earlier 
productions.  As  a  picture  of  New  England  life  and  character, 
as  a  story  of  such  surpassing  interest  that  lie  who  begins  is 
compelled  to  finish  it,  as  a  work  of  art  without  a  fault  or  a  de 
ficiency,  we  cannot  see  how  it  could  possibly  be  improved. — N. 
Y.  Sun. 

The  simplicity,  purity,  and  quaintness  of  these  stories  set 
them  apart  in  a  niche  of  distinction  where  they  have  no  rivals. 
— Literary  World,  Boston. 

Nowhere  are  there  to  be  found  such  faithful,  delicately  drawn, 
sympathetic,  tenderly  humorous  pictures. — ^f.  Y.  Tribune. 

The  charm  of  Miss  Wilkins's  stories  is  in  her  intimate  ac 
quaintance  and  comprehension  of  humble  life,  and  the  sweet 
human  interest  she  feels  and  makes  her  readers  partake  of,  in 
the  simple,  common,  homely  people  she  draws. — Springfield 
Republican. 

PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NEW  YORK. 

j(£g=-  The  above  works  are  for  sale  by  all  books?  1 1  em,  or  will  be  sent  by 
the  publishers,  postage  prepaid,  to  any  part  of  the  United  States,  Canada,  or 
Mexico,  on  receipt  of  the  price. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


— 


MAR  2  7  1984 


MAR     51984 


LD  21-100m-6,'56 
(B9311slO)476 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


M.1201.3 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


